The dry wind wisps through my hair

As I walk a path so desolate and bare.

Dark clouds loom above me

In the dreary sky,

So I hold up my umbrella

In an attempt to hide

Away from their poison

That they threaten to cry.

I look to the trees,

They cower behind their misty veil

And quiver in the chilling breeze.

My gaze searches the swaying grass,

It tries to warn me

But my reason is far too illusive

For it to be grasped.

I was drawn here for a purpose

But yet I still quake,

For the power of this land

Is not something

That most wish to wake.

My cloak trails behind my feet

While the wind hisses like a snake

Daunting me

With an echo

Recounting what I have put at stake.

And just as my feet

Slowed to a stop

And my lips began to recite

What must not be forgot,

It appeard right there

In the middle of the grass,

Just a leisure stroll away

From where I stood in the path.

It oozed out from the ground

And floated into the sky,

And it swirled within itself

Until it reached about eight miles high.

It sparkled and bellowed

And thundered and glowed,

Then I felt my feet run

Towards the purple cloud

As my eyes

Studied its growth.

My hands let go of my umbrella

And I heard it crash to the ground,

And then I felt the earth tremble

In the wake of a terrible sound.

The sky darkened

And the gray clouds began to weap

And I felt the acid rain

Seep into my skin

And boil the blood

Within my cheeks.

I let out a cry

But no one would hear

For there is a reason

That no one comes

To what I am so desperately near.

As the rain carved

Through my tender face

I reached the purple cloud

And I am sure I will be safe.

But as I reach my hand

Into what I thought would save my fate,

I see my body

Start to disintegrate.

Now the purple cloud looms

Over this silent land,

And consumes anyone

Who desires to understand

Why they have been cursed

In the life that they lead

And hopes to find

A new way to proceed.

I am one of the souls

Who wanted to escape

The life that they behold,

But now I am nothing more

Than a wisp of smoke

In the purple cloud

And I cry when I see

Someone like me come around.

So mistaken we are

To think our problems could disappear

At the touch of a magic cloud

That moves mysteriously

Through the air.

But do not twist my words,

For the purple cloud is not a hoax,

It will disintegrate your problems

Which bother you the most.

Our omission is in that

We cannot exist

Without the essence

Of life’s cruel twists.

So when the cloud takes our problems

It takes us too

And we become one with the glittery cloud

Of ultimate doom.