The misty fog covered the playgrounds
Swirling tendrils of moistened clouds
Hanging from monkey bars
And teetering on the see saw

Children rolled over in their warm beds
Feeling, somehow, the chink rattle
In the chains of the swings

It sat silent and heavy
Daring brave hearted travelers
To inhale it's darkness
And submit

The young night owl
Baseball bat in hand
Peered wordlessly
Through eyelid slits
Behind dim windows

He called himself brave
And almost believed it
With his closed fist
Clenching the wood

He watched it wrap it's
Tortured talons across his
Childhood dreamland
Infecting the innocence
With its dark deeds

He knew traces of it would be left behind
Causing the young ones
Who brush against its residue
to enter the world of adult darkness
Before their time.

He planned on avoiding it
That park and it's black shadows
For the rest of his life

Growing up wouldn't suit him
So he stood watch
Gripping his bat
With slit eyed glares
And planned his own
Revenge on the mist.