I must go in,

the fog is rising.

I see it coming towards me, 

drowning the marigolds in its wake. 

Night-time is upon me,

darkness howls its barren sound

and I must go

where I will find solace now.

A storm is coming,

over the horizon, it wails

reaching for me with thunder

and maddening sounds.

I must go in,

the fog is rising in my eyes

and I can 

no longer see.

Soon I will be

but a dream.

The fog is rising

and I must go in.

Note: I must go in, the fog is rising, were the last words Emily Dickinson said before she passed on.