The night is pitch black
No moon

All is so silent
Not even a bird song can be heard

A mist so thick, as like fog
As were in times past now
Yes so thick calls for the

Proverbial knife
Cannot see just where you are
Whear you are going,

Or where you have been
You stumble over unseen objects
Unseen people, age gender unknown
Crash into walls & gates, that stubbornly

Remain shut to you
Without knowing you - you go into a circle

That appears unending so it appears

You are unknowingly at the beginning where it all began 
Turn to the left & you're out of it, turn to the right
And then you remain in that damned!

CUL-DE-SAC -!
That can be life

Ken D. Williams

The Dyslexic Wordsmith Ov Thanet