On Clouds High
Life is bountiful, pure and rich entwined around roots of corruption of tainted hate. Spreading ones wings means to be lifted by others to help them rise into the sky's above, Blissful is our soul ignited with fury of lustful woes, We take flight among the clouds soaring high above as the birds whisper in our ears songs of graceful fears, When all else fails and our wings fall fast our hearts keep us afloat in this big blue vast, Playing with the wind as it embraces us we twirl in its draft as the dark cloud lurks nearer, Dark in its deepest point the cold wind blows as trickling water falls from its abode, Landing on our flesh it smacks with great force knocking us breathless as we plummet to the earths floor, In these waking hours we are reminded that not all great things last, but that in some hard times there can be good times..even when pain may lead our sorrow into a happy place.
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