The fair don their shrouds,
Indoors they run
As darkness envelopes the sun
a more horrible sight there could not be
no one lived that has seen what they see
fathers they cry and mothers they weep
all along children lost in their sleep
A black tinted mist rolls down the street
burning the skin of those it meets
it pours under doors and cracks in windows
children awake in fear of their shadows
This night they know things wont be the same
they spoke of the darkness and it came
They thought of tomarrow with anticipation
though the skin clammy with perspiration
They only hoped what followed would be fast
as the mist swallowed them and they breathed their last.
