FOG...

Down in the valley the army advances
like a thick blanket covering but all.
The army thickens and widens
as it merges with its scattered allies.
Soon the foothills are covered.
I am the lone watchman of this invasion.
Another half an hour, the village would
be covered.
I turn towards the fire and giggling red faces.
My thoughts twirl upwards along with the smoke.
The unseen future always excites me.
The crackling wood pieces draw my attention,
they lay like some sacred embers,
glowing brightly with each passing wind.
The white army touches the village
engulfing those little children playing.
I see them no more...only their shouts !
My heart beats faster as i feel like
floating on the white army.
Or at least , paint a moving picture.
There's a lightening , followed by a
roaring thunder. There is silence !
The roof starts mumbling and so does
the leaves and pots and pans.
We hurry inside. Now there's a grumble
of some sort. Another thunder crackles.
Now its all song and dance of the rain.
I run towards the window to see
the white army falling.
They look at me with defeated glance.
Their invaded regions now lay clear of
sight. I look up and hum a song.
It gets darker and darker and darker
Don't know how night slipped in ?
Must admire its stealthiness.
I wake up in the morning,
And crawl on my bed to look outta window
And behold ! The white army had reached my

doorsteps !