I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er wondrous sims
yet never sheds it's quenching load
on those who frolic down below
On parades in Paradise it never rains
impotent cumulus banished to decorative folly
a backdrop against which events are played
without it's pouring scorn to spoil
There is no solace in solitude
no frisson in freedom
no mystery without a Mistress
no substitute for submission
So - I wonder why do I wander still ?
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