Clouds

The grey cotton candy,
spun around the turning wind,
tastes a bitter sweetness,
kisses thy strength and weakness.

Tumbling roars so delicate,
strike into parallel thoughts.
Behind closed eyes, won't leave,
through the stubborn mind will weave.

A fatal beuty, the window spies,
the fury, such a delicacy.
Unlike the crimson colours we release,
a vivid expression of earth.