How is it that sadness within resurrects a calming feel. The grey clouds overlook you. They creep in the moments of joyful solitude, in the midst of the day. Sneaking behind, a shadows view. Nothing is everything, everything is you. Stand on the peak of a distant rock, like a balance beam supports your  changing pull. Back and forth ready to fall, crumbling beneath, down comes unstable walls. I cannot feel what seems to be real. In this vast moment I reach, I grab, I settle with my view. A grey cloud is comforting when it’s what you are used to.