(A/N: This is just a poem about Cloud Strife...hence the title...and basically its just asking "Why?".)

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A Poem to Cloud Strife

Rolling clouds bring to life

A question longing in my mind.

Through the trouble and the strife

Is one made, the question's trite.

Dressed in black, cold as ice

How does one's hair get so bright?

Is your cold stare just a front?

Why does it bear the hardest brunt?

When your sword reflects your face,

It makes me wonder from whence it came.

What were those tears that you cried?

When your hometown, that night, died,

Did you think of things to come?

Is that where that Jenova's is from?

Is your memory truly gone?

Can you not tell me where you're from?

Rolling clouds bring to life

A question longing in my mind.

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