Smokestorm.

A cloud descends over the horizon
Some call it doubt,
I call it the ghosts which haunt us
And hope it can only stay for a short while.
Within the fog and smokey mist
We call to each other,
Lost and wanting for a simple touch
That bond that could keep us strong.
We inhale, tears rising to our eyes
Unsure of what comes next
We link hands, and run through it, together
You're my breath of fresh air.