It creeps up like a memory,

Forgotten and all but lost,

Acknowledged but unwanted,

White: stirred and tossed.

          I didn't want it to come back,

          But some things never do,

          Where is that peace that left

          From the life I once knew?

                    We all were children once,

                    Lost in the fog and wisps

                    Of the white breath of angels,

                    The haunted forest of mist.

There was a time I had seen

Things I wish no memory of,

Of things creeping and black

That kill a child from above.

          But I lived, among the lost,

          Beside those fated ignorant,

          Among the less-fortunate,

          Beside they who lost their hunt.

                    We all were children once,

                    Lost in the fog and wisps

                    Of the white breath of angels,

                    The haunted forest of mist.

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