London Fog

This is a valley where London Fog
Hangs heavily like bloodied hands
Torching gallows to fuel the lingering caress
Of addiction rising in smoky spirals.

Drowned in sound these flooded trees
Burst apart in the bitter stagnant silence
After an echoing one-handed thunderclap
One day they will never have been whole.

When that day comes the fog will yield
And the world will be laid bare to be seen
As it once was and as it now is
And to be asked, “What was so important about the difference?”

The forest was once here before the frost,
The cities before they were razed to plant the seeds
Of respite from cacophony and memories,
But we will live on until we die.

In the smell of cigarette smoke behind closed doors
In the chirping of life crying at our loss for words
We will live on and never forget
We will live in the past as who we are now.