Through the foggy window

Is it tomorrow that torments me so,

That which does not exist is yet to come,

counting the days to soften the hard blow

futile attempts to be blissfully numb

It is coming for me, it has caught up,

it makes my heart race and my mind spiral,

so is it a coward that I brought up,

has courage just reached an age retiral,

through the foggy window I can't quiet see,

what is there but oh there sure is something,

I am aware that it stares back at me,

it grips me tight and I can do nothing.

oh look it is here, much less than my fear,

wait, there is another doom inching near...