The Gray
By Joules 
August 3, 2011. 

She floated through like a feather plucked from thick plumage of billowy birds.
As the wind lifted, dropped, and caught her in webs, she was left with only her words.

Then the storms broke her free from sticky clutches of spidery threads of glue.
Her words created and cleared a path to allow the light and wispy filament of flight to fleet through.

The light led her to lend her love to local delights of leisurely delicacies that struck her chords in tune.
By the hands of time and the fingers of charm that swept across her skin to send her into a sentimental sentence all too soon.

Encaptured in the midst of a blink of an eye
and burst of a bubble recognising her life here has three days to live.
Enraptured by the charismatic wink of his eye
that sparked her hearts trouble of leaving too soon to be able to give.

Her world of internal eternal sunshine of ease.
Ripped away by the breeze,
Whipped into bone chilling freeze,
Of a whirlwind of fire ablaze and fueled by the sizzling trees.

Withering into a crisp wrinkle and charred crackly crinkle of crumbling ember torn apart by the gust.
The flakes of the feather disintegrated into a great mass of gray dust.

So if you find yourself lost and stricken by a daze of your gaze under an ocean of gray clouds saturating your sky.
Just see that it’s the remnants of that grey dust of the girl you once knew that changed her form and learned to fly.