Coming up to the City of Clouds, coming up to the City of Emeralds, to get away from the City of Angels. It’s my time to relax, to relax from the usual life that has haunted me all too long. The life that I have been so bored with for some time. It was time to get away. Away, far far away from the Angels of the city. I found another Angel up in the clouds.

The clouds, so fluffy and withering white, floats so listlessly up in the sky, monoliths just moving with the breeze. Just moving with the breeze; going where ever the wind blows. It just goes. So peaceful and so pure, so white and innocent. Clouds of nature, a collection of mist that was gathered from tiny particles that came from every where and goes every where, a collection of every thing and nothing at once.

It flows and flows. Going with the breeze, so listless and so full of life.

It looks so peaceful in the sky, so milky white and pure; tainted an eerie fiery glow from the setting sun. It moves on, hiding its secret from everyone. It moves on.

Day turns to night. The sun is set and billowy white turns to the nightly steel gray black that we are so familiar with. Night’s out for the secret to reveal itself.

The clouds of cumulonimbus letting us have it. It pours and pours and pours out its secret for all to see. It cries and cries, cleaning itself, killing itself and freeing itself from all of the pain and frustration that it builds up and collects from everywhere. It cries for all; everyone’s pain and everyone’s frustration. It cries, no longer able to hold all of the painful secrets it harbors. It cries, letting the water flow, crying all night, crying.

When it runs out of tears, it is no more. It no longer exists. The clouds are only here to collect all the secrets and bad deeds that everyone does. Once it has its share, once it has collected all it can, once it gets the final secret that breaks its dam, it is time for it to go. It is time for it to cry. It is time for it to die.

It is no more. All cried out goes the song. All cried out. I’m over you.

That’s what it did when I was down there, that’s what it did when I got my answer, when I got my reply. The sky cried. The clouds could no longer take the pain that was inflicted and it cried for me. I had no more tears. No more tears for you. I couldn’t cry over this, over you anymore. I just couldn’t. So the sky did.

It rained all night, the next day, the next night, and the day after. It cried and cried. It cried me a river.

Moving on, flowing like the clouds, going with the flow, where ever the wind blows me. That’s what I’m going to do. That’s what I intend to do. No longer going with a purpose, no longer making plans, no longer doing things for the sake of doing things. I’m just going to do things when I want to do things because I need to do things. I have to do things.

I will just float on, float on, cause that’s what I need to do. That’s what everyone needs to do, float on.

To be free to float on, going where ever the wind blows you. Just flowing like the mighty river Thames, following the current, riding the ride, just going along. Just going along. That’s how life should be, no purpose, just living, going with things. If it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, then tough bananas.