Overcast

I am overcast,
A sky of slate illuminated,
Gloomy yet somehow beguiling,
Backlit by an inner fire,
A sun of whimsy,
A haze of oddity,

There is a chill to my air,
A sullen and awkward disposition,
But the louds cannot bury every flare,
There is flesh and blood pumping,
Some inner effulgence eats through,
A candle in the dusk,

When you look at me,
Eyes straining,
There is a sun there,
I swear it,
It’s cloaked by grey,
But there is warmth.

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