Anthology

It rises from the ashes
thin trails of smoke snaking lazily upward
with wisps and tendrils that swirl around in mad circles
as if eager to escape the ruins that gave birth to its existence
Its transparent haze, like phantom fingers,
search the air for something tangible to wrap its gray body around and it seeks out a solid form to cover with its thick film
Its destination is vague, as is its journey,
as it traverses through the spaces and settles thickly in the air, masking the evil in its intention and the haunting whispers of its being