Malady
It rolls in like a London fog
Mysterious and thick it flows
Leaving trails ore the surly bog
Yet no one knows where it goes
Once enveloped in its cold embrace
It begins its subtle molecular coup
Taking captive to secure and enlace
So that it can deploy its alien crew
Entrapping souls in a crazy juxtaposition
Reality and fantasy run together
Not really sure of the true condition
As dangerous as the unstable weather
Till all held in its savage melodic spell
Become participants in its sad parade
The transformation runs through every cell
And we keep up the pathetic charade
Then all at once it dissipates like it came
Leaving a path of devastation behind
But rest assured it will return once again
This cyclical malady of the soul and mind