• That thing called mist
    Lets you know I exist
    But when there's hail
    I'm hiding every little detail

    My emotions are a storm
    Without any shape or form
    They pour out like rain
    Trying to get rid of the heavy pain

    Sometimes they fall like snow
    Gently telling you what I can't show
    On occasion you see the sleet
    Dropping messily when I'm beat

    The thunder and lightning
    Is sometimes frightening
    But what I love the most; the fog
    Hides everything like fire on a log.