"The Red in the Sky is Gone Pt. n: Happy Day"

Sometimes I don't remember
how I could have been so happy
with sonorous, harmonious frequencies
Or even what things looked like
nor what words now recall
I remember only this unfounded arrogance and what once was
as pain again was said to be exhumed from a cleaner soul
One too errant to recall a reminder
and that cannot reciprocate that
which I don't beckon
Frustrated enough not to fake a smile
to this hyperreality that lacks color
Then, after admitting this upon the valueless absolute value of descent
I remember the first happy day
of my life
When the red in the sky, now seen as
a paradoxically toxic beauty, was gone
The happy day when all cleared and was reborn, minus one cloud
and plus a shroud, though the shroud was parsed alongside the cloud
Soon I shall pass a cloud of sorts,
Shedding a tear as I see it as is a shroud