Amongst a Cloud (day 1529)

Cannot be a plan, I was left inside,
I was amongst a thousand starving brides.
Cure my memory, cure my soul,
Cure a lovely soul that left me here,
In a sea of generic popular. 
I saw my aunty in your eyes,
A creature – I didn’t take a rise,
And when an ancient crowd does shine,
I’ll graft my shoulders to bounce in time.