A thick mist creeps over greys and reds
Buildings soulless and dead
No life or imagination exists
As it creeps, this ethereal mist
Lights swallowed up as it moves
But not all, there are just a few
These floating orbs glow in the dark
Like ghostly visitors from the past
The mist creeps over our mystical land
Its tendrils creeping, close at hand
Reaching, stretching, hungry for all
As it salivates, ravenous for more
Cars disappear into the night
Swallowed whole, no more lights
Whilst a jogger pounds into the mist
He too has disappeared
The December mist moves on
This night will successful be long
As it eats its way through the night
Birds and other animals take fright
Published by
Darren Greenidge
I'm a thinker, listener, a "question's pretty much everything" type of person. A seeker of knowledge, always restless, yet seeks the calm in life.
I love writing in all forms and am in the process of completing a number of ongoing projects. I love the craft of writing and the possibilities it holds. A magic carpet through the mind. I love pretty much all creative arts, music, film and theatre the leading ones.
Born in Hertfordshire in England, my family Irish, Welsh and English, I currently reside in Edinburgh, in Scotland. I'm drawn to coastal and mountain regions where I like to go to think and draw inspiration from. Ireland is a place that's dear to me, and I try to get back to see family and friends as much as possible.
My interests are wide and broad, too many to mention here, but history, archaeology, criminology, music and film are just some of those things I love.
I hope you enjoy my ramblings on here as that's what they are really. I'll let my fingers do the ''talking...''
View all posts by Darren Greenidge
Caliburnus Rises 