It was a blue sky that on that day I spied
not a cloud above the skyline in sight,
no matter how hard I may have tried,
not revealed even a single streak of white.
Across the horizon only blue and light
like the jagged dream of an empty night.
Upon us bore, foolishly dreaded my mind,
in the form of lifeless sky- the end of mankind.
Borne on silent wind swayed a branch
and I soon awoken from the trance
thought to myself about the perfect trait
of that background of the trees’ portrait.