Thought.

The town of Thought, was a place of fog, sprinkled in autumn leaves.
The wind always traveled below the mist, afraid to get lost in the trees.
The owls above kept watch overhead, perched on branches of black.
Any stranger dare enter the gates of the town, turn around and never look back.
For if one were to enter the town of Thought, they would find themselves stuck in a rut.
Many get kidnapped by the fog's vulture clutches, and the gates have a tendancy to shut.
To get lost in Thought amongst the laughing wind that tickles the leaves on the ground,
There was once one who did so, and the fog ventured to silence her cruntching foot steps of sound.
Her beauty so lovely, the fog felt an envy and let her tread upon nature's floor.
The fog had never loved one such as she, it felt the need to trap her in lore.
And it sang through the trees, and it spread out it's arms, and tap danced all about.
The beautiful dove; engulfed in the fog's song, became dizzy and could not get out.   
So the next time you choose to get lost in Thought, leave a trail to help guide your way back.
You never can tell where the wind will blow, nor when the fog will attack.