This poem is woven through the “Huh?” Perspectacle, partially obscured.

Visibility Zero

Wandering lost
Who I am, forgotten
Unrecognizable shreds left by the roadside
Was that me?
I used to know
I used to love
I used to laugh
Years between huddle in grey shrouds
Aching to recall
Distant echoes of joy
Before cowering days commenced
Cornered by your poison arrows
Too late I see
The fog has settled
Its icy fingers grip my voice
I am silenced
Gone