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.