Dark Clouds (My attempt at a modernist poem)

Dark clouds hang over her head
She sees the world in black and white
And how it really is, cold and dark
like the clouds following her every where she goes

Evening is when it's the loudest for her
Time is yelling at her ear, telling her she should do something
Yet she is a butterfly, too weak to fly
while the dark clouds are pouring down

She always continued flying in search for something she doesn't know
Through all the people she thinks are predators
Because she feels like everyone is constantly judging her like she's the prey
And all those empty thoughts the black clouds are bringing her, she cannot escape.

There is comfort in having a deadline
And everyone would cease to exist one day
because the cold world is not fair,
at least that's what the dark clouds say.