Visions of the Elder I

As the smoke floats against the blackened sky,
I see the faces of the elder I.
Tossed and thrown from ground to sky,
I see the faces of the elder I.
Time travel maybe, but doubtful,
Just visions of the elder I.
A life still to be lived,
But he, I, still know know how it ends.
As the smoke saunters away,
It leaves questions of my days.
Will I be here or should I have been there?
But the questions can be asked only
To the black sky and it's milky paint.