A Greying View

I have often wondered at the
Silkiness of greying clouds,
Whether they be smooth and warm
Or rough and scaly as the serpent,
And have found the mystery to be
Answered as both, for when
Delight overtook all rational thought,
I enjoyed the ambrosial feel
Of powdery clouds, its balm
Soothing all ruffled cares, infusing
Me with all pleasurable dreams,
Caressing my pale cheek as though
It were his gentle hands, lulling me
Into a deep, untroubled sleep.
Then the storm raged, drowning
All delights and wringing my heart
Like a discarded rag, and
His fury at my deceit sharply
Stabbed me, rubbing my raw skin
Until it no longer could sense
The change in seasons.
The dark clouds are now hissing their
Discontent, sinking venomous fangs
Into my empty soul, dragging me
From any illusions of paradise
Until all I see, all I can ever
Perceive is a hellish monster,
I its captive even unto my corrosive
Death, the clouds choking my
Weak will, its companionship
Leaving me ever lonely in
Eternal darkness.