the cloud is on my face
the cloud is on my face
drop
by
drop,
bit
by
bit,
shrouds of our soul diluted by our faith
god may alter our destiny
but who
who governed my state of mind?
who incarcerated me in a cave?
the cloud is on my face
It dissipates.
Soundlessly, invincibly it left with no trace.
the woods spotted its imprint
the sky covered its crime
the sun justified its misdeeds and
the rain, extinguished the inferno,
gone...
the cloud is on my face
roses? excessively bloody
And so the coffin befits my fate,
better.
Bitter is the jar of sugar
as it is sprayed across my wound from Saturday
We ascended a hill and you pushed my friend on the back,
we watched her fall
I wonder if remorse ever embraced you
but it seems,
she slips from the hill and from
your recollection.
the cloud is on my face
you want me to see no more than your wisdom
yet I only see foolishness as
you dare profess being the chosen harp of our divine providence
You orchestrate no melodies,
having only feigned notes.
you,
you are less than a loosened string.
I pierced through the cloud on my face -
thinner than filaments of hair,
frail as parchment
now the cloud is no longer on my face.
And I, no longer confined
with my face becoming a liberated mind.