Sea of Clouds May 28, 2006
The soul has run dry,
'Tis time to depart
For parts unknown,
To forget, to respite.
I dip this quill
Into the jar,
But the ink won't speak,
And the paper asks why.
A time has come
For me to fly away
Into the cross currents
The winds provide.
Where they will take me
Is anybody's guess,
But I'm now a bird
In the vast sea of clouds.
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