The cloud I see is me,
Death swayed around it,
Lingering freely,
A throne which would forever sit,
Its arms stretch and bend,
Shadows curl and twist,
A crown without end,
A fleeting shape I cannot resist,
It drifts through the sky,
Silent, vast, and deep,
I reach with a sigh,
For secrets the wind will keep,
A mirror of thought,
A weightless, drifting trace,
Lessons quietly taught,
Reflected in ...