The colliding clouds are in combat
they crash through each other
consume and become one.
Silently the wind urges them on
as its inpatient ally waits in the
black background.
The moon bides its time willing
the wind to disperse the seperated.
It seizes its chance and slices through
slapping itself onto the streets below.

Shadows of the outside world dance
upon my ceiling, black puppets throw
themselves around my room.
The curtains can no longer perform
light jaded and light worn they
whimper in the wind.
She is sleeping beside me yet
dreaming elsewhere
The clouds collide and consume,
and darkness descends.
And everything becomes clear.

Not Long Left

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/as-clouds-are-blown-it-all-becomes-clear/