Clouds of a Beautiful Crimson

I hope you guys enjoy this sonnet...I'm surprisingly pleased with it myself. Kinda pretty I hope. Anyways...

This I see through a window of fluid clarity,
Like a lake of the utmost calm:

The clouds hide memories of years ago,
When the grass grew greener and soft.
I am beginning to feel I am young no longer;
My youth stolen, or lost by the wayside.

November's blue beckons to me,
Though it's nearly the middle of May.
The breeze is that of a darker fall,
And the serenity betrays its maker.

If it were not for the Rocks that keep me afloat,
My screams would ring slowly, silent.
For alone I am nothing; together we rise,
On clouds of a beautiful crimson.