You

A dark mist swarms in the distance, blinding the night,

whilst breaking the peace into pieces of blight.

It swallows up valleys, the churchyard and moors,

Dismantles their lives and rips open the doors.

Shredding some sheets from a harlot’s worn bed, 
she quietly spins the hoary rough thread.
She tries using the thread to sew back the town's peace, 
but instead makes Neglect. 

So she burns it.