Poetry Violet Fog

[Spectral]

I cling on to the last thread of sanity I had stored away in my head.
The violet fog continues to consume my hands, and then my arms.
It crawls up ever crack of my body as I sit and stare.
I cannot resist the violet fog. I have given into it's vile curse.

In the end, it has taken away not only my humanity, but my sanity as well.
I cannot create. I cannot destroy.
I can only wait.

I̫̘̜̬̗̳̬̅͆̇͆͘͢͡ ̶͕͖̞̣̫̭̤̜̬̘̯̩͕̔̂ͣͨ̌͂̏̇͌͂̍ͨ̊̅̏̏ͮ̋͞C̛͙̘̪̞̬̬͖̬͖͈̤̠͈͌̇̾̒͠͡Ą̧̯͚̥̪̹͎̲̺͍͇̰̭̲̂͌̌̑ͩ̒̿͟N͓̥̥̣̬̺͍̪̤̯̦͊ͤͦ̽̎ͣ̔ͮ̏̏̚͘͝'̰͔̳̟̘̫̮̦͎̬̩̺̘̖̠ͫ̃͌́̾ͥ͐̐ͧ͗͗̐̉ͮ͆̀͘̕T̢̯̗̖̲̜͈̘̬̳̼̰͚̫ͭ̽̋͑̑̓͒͆̾̒͋ͪ̏͟͜͠ͅ ̴̤̯̣̟̱̟̿ͮͪ͘͜ͅD̛̛̼̞̲̝͖̠͈̟̊̅̉̈͂̐ͥO̻̯̖͍̞̫̘͈̮̱͒͛͆ͩͧ̿ͮͯ̈̇͆͘͜͝͝͡ͅ ͤ̂̃̔͗̈́̾̑̍͛͗͐́͜͡҉̭̥͙́͠ͅÌ̸̡̗͍̠̝̼̦͍̭͓̏̀ͪ̔̿́̊̈́̋̀̐̈́ͤ́͜͠Ṱ̨̢͎͔̝͔͕̹̱͗̐͊̆͋͛̏̅̏ͦͣ̍ͨ͑̾ͯ

I̫̘̜̬̗̳̬̅͆̇͆͘͢͡ ̶͕͖̞̣̫̭̤̜̬̘̯̩͕̔̂ͣͨ̌͂̏̇͌͂̍ͨ̊̅̏̏ͮ̋͞C̛͙̘̪̞̬̬͖̬͖͈̤̠͈͌̇̾̒͠͡Ą̧̯͚̥̪̹͎̲̺͍͇̰̭̲̂͌̌̑ͩ̒̿͟N͓̥̥̣̬̺͍̪̤̯̦͊ͤͦ̽̎ͣ̔ͮ̏̏̚͘͝'̰͔̳̟̘̫̮̦͎̬̩̺̘̖̠ͫ̃͌́̾ͥ͐̐ͧ͗͗̐̉ͮ͆̀͘̕T̢̯̗̖̲̜͈̘̬̳̼̰͚̫ͭ̽̋͑̑̓͒͆̾̒͋ͪ̏͟͜͠ͅ ̴̤̯̣̟̱̟̿ͮͪ͘͜ͅD̛̛̼̞̲̝͖̠͈̟̊̅̉̈͂̐ͥO̻̯̖͍̞̫̘͈̮̱͒͛͆ͩͧ̿ͮͯ̈̇͆͘͜͝͝͡ͅ ͤ̂̃̔͗̈́̾̑̍͛͗͐́͜͡҉̭̥͙́͠ͅÌ̸̡̗͍̠̝̼̦͍̭͓̏̀ͪ̔̿́̊̈́̋̀̐̈́ͤ́͜͠Ṱ̨̢͎͔̝͔͕̹̱͗̐͊̆͋͛̏̅̏ͦͣ̍ͨ͑̾ͯ

I̫̘̜̬̗̳̬̅͆̇͆͘͢͡ ̶͕͖̞̣̫̭̤̜̬̘̯̩͕̔̂ͣͨ̌͂̏̇͌͂̍ͨ̊̅̏̏ͮ̋͞C̛͙̘̪̞̬̬͖̬͖͈̤̠͈͌̇̾̒͠͡Ą̧̯͚̥̪̹͎̲̺͍͇̰̭̲̂͌̌̑ͩ̒̿͟N͓̥̥̣̬̺͍̪̤̯̦͊ͤͦ̽̎ͣ̔ͮ̏̏̚͘͝'̰͔̳̟̘̫̮̦͎̬̩̺̘̖̠ͫ̃͌́̾ͥ͐̐ͧ͗͗̐̉ͮ͆̀͘̕T̢̯̗̖̲̜͈̘̬̳̼̰͚̫ͭ̽̋͑̑̓͒͆̾̒͋ͪ̏͟͜͠ͅ ̴̤̯̣̟̱̟̿ͮͪ͘͜ͅD̛̛̼̞̲̝͖̠͈̟̊̅̉̈͂̐ͥO̻̯̖͍̞̫̘͈̮̱͒͛͆ͩͧ̿ͮͯ̈̇͆͘͜͝͝͡ͅ ͤ̂̃̔͗̈́̾̑̍͛͗͐́͜͡҉̭̥͙́͠ͅÌ̸̡̗͍̠̝̼̦͍̭͓̏̀ͪ̔̿́̊̈́̋̀̐̈́ͤ́͜͠Ṱ̨̢͎͔̝͔͕̹̱͗̐͊̆͋͛̏̅̏ͦͣ̍ͨ͑̾ͯ​