Cloud Cry

Prying above a pear shaped pink horizon
Lies a swathe white rug
Clouded by suave white fur
And dust amassed by times past
Sunrays peek in on Sunday
Sabbath light springs
Encountering withered floors
Of which sabbath chords string
Battered tears
Sneering at a wicked backdrop
Are brightened, blighted eyes
A mysterious heaven
Grunted a loud, raspy cry
Ridiculous rampage of reluctant scorn
Scoring binocular look deep into Summer sun
As winds began to hallow west
He felt unmatched vastness
As though yet been born

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