Wrapped

Wrapped in mist, A swirling fog of despair. Railed hopelessness Blankets me ,so familiar. Tunneled days, dimmering Down to night. Why seek tomorrow, why not give up the fight? This abyss , deepening each day,drawing me, claiming me,paving my way. Oh for a sip of hope to quench my despairing soul ,a grip of truth, I can hold as so. An invading light, dispelling my plight. For I am helpless to transform the night. Does my creator know me as I am? Has He made a way with a plan? Or is that a fable spun by man? How can I know? How can I really know? (Ask)