tears of a cloud

In the vast expanse of Heaven's shroud,
A cloud doth weep in silence loud.
Its tears, the rain, in torrents fall,
A sorrowful cascade, a watery pall.

Why doth the cloud don its mask of grey,
To drench the earth's stage in a mournful play?
Is it for the loss of its celestial kin,
Vanished like whispers in the wind?

Perhaps it mourns for beauty lost,
For flowers wilted by the frost.
Or weeps for love that's gone astray,
In the tempest of life's disarray.

The cloud, a vessel of the sky's despair,
Sheds its grief for all to share.
Each drop, a pearl of woe untold,
A secret, from the heavens rolled.

So when the rain upon you taps,
Consider the cloud's misfortune, perhaps.
For every tear that from it parts,
Is a piece of the sky's heavy heart.