The Running Mist

Running, Running through the mist
Late is the day and barely alive.

Macedonia was easier to work your way through,
And more attractive.

14 seconds until it closes,
Its always the same place...

BANGLE!? What kind of word is that to use as a password.
Fear, cold rising fear following me through the mist.

Fire like the heat of death catches at my ankles, and i trip,
And fall forever into the darkness to be finally consumed by the mist.

Its dark now, the light which once lit the room has gone,
I can no longer see the mist, but i can smell it... and it can smell me...