In the Fog

Catherine without

a Heathcliff wandering

the moors alone.

The fog rolls in

the mist calls out

"It is time to come Home."

"Turn from the pain

of your moor, follow

my song."

It whispers in her ear,

"You’ve been here far

to long."

"The sun will beam

cold, your heart will

mold.

The earth will burn,

your soul, still

yearn."

"There can be no peace

for the soul without Love

can only roam."

Catherine without

a Heathcliff still wanders

the moors alone.