inside a fog

everything three palms ahead

is inside a fog

thick as frosted glass

intermittent silence takes the background

almost four after midnight 

low warm light here inside

time is passing

and I am thinking 

consciously and poetically 

meanwhile

Morpheus whispers

my name in the bedroom

I hear it like a lullaby

in my mind

better I go

so I can bear

the aftersleep today

which, by seeing that heavy fog,

I already feel 

the introduction of hell

brought by 

the destruction of the planet

successfully being done

by humans for humans.