I am the cloudy sky,
Casting doubt on those below me,
Garnering pity from those above.
But to myself, I am lost,
Trying to pierce through the veil of my cloud.

Those above me think they see,
But their sight is empty.
Those below me look towards heaven,
But are greeted only by doubt.
But to myself, my sight is lost,
Seeing only the monotony of the cloud.
Those below me search for meaning,
And in that, find their purpose.
Those above me think they’ve found their purpose,
And in that, they ignore their meaning.
But to myself, my meaning is lost,
Leaving my purpose bare to all but me.

Those above forget those below,
For I have sheltered them.

Those below fear those above,
For I have hidden them.
But to them both, I am lost,
but I love them both,
for only I know them both.