In the grey fog, the yellow eyes stare

Saying to the icy wind: Beware

The grey walls in which they are set

Rise up until the sky is met

Grey clouds hover low at the tip

A black figure at the lip!

The fall is fast and quick

Here; no one lights a wick

The yellow eyes may often flicker

It is silent; no one likes to bicker

The grey is everywhere

Sickness is ripe in the grey air

The grey eats at the soul

Here; there is no goal.