Dark Clouds

If it weren’t for the thick black smoke
We would have seen what lit the flame
Behind clouds you slit your own throat
The poison in your vanes’ to blame.

Darkness slipping through the cracks,
Flaws of what was once perfect.
Illness in shadow, led the attacks
Making sure the blade fit…

Softly in the hands I held…
Imagined ‘til the end of days.
Could it be a dream from hell?
Still wishing I would wake.