thanks for the comments! Here's another~

Slivers of cloud
Slice through the young and immortal sky
that is their canvas
Painting mists of grey
Blown eastward by the wind
Playing
in the softly blurred boundaries of dawn and twelve-
morning.

Thoughts drift across the sightless mind
that of another world
That listless clouds
wafting far and wide
belong to lost and hidden souls.

And as one looks up to the blue
where angels braid their locks
In the balanced hours of daylight
wretched being and listless soul
Arising wings, fly to the realm
Of the imaginary

For clouds of pale cornflower wishes
and a dream of cerulean
Inset within sight before eternal rest
Trembling fingers reach out
to the jars of hope piled up high
behind the sun
Not meant to be taken.


This poem was inspired by a scene I saw while riding to school one day, and i wrote it there on the bus, but I've made some adjustments ^^
hope you like!