Seasons

Part One: The Fall:

 

Cold seeps into my bones

Seasons change and the doves fly south

I find myself staring at the leaves of a maple tree

Pondering this fruitless existence

 

The leaves change and grow old before my eyes

Powerless to stop the sands from falling

Ignorant of times headlong rush down the river of fate

And yet still they cling tenaciously to this existence

 

An exquisite pallet of colour flourishes before me

Providing a surreal illusion of grandeur

Pushing back times cold embrace

And reveling in blessed existence

 

The chill has found a fateful ally

The wind announces its arrival with a shrill howl

I shudder as chills run up and down my spine

The branches creak as existence is threatened

 

One by one my silent soldiers fall

To lay amongst the dirt and soil

They crunch under my bare feet like dry brittle bones

And I submit to the cold, existence is lost

 

I cry out to the heavens for all Gods to hear

Why must we endure this cruel fate?

Bitter tears stain my lips with their treacherous taste

And in mimicry of the leaves, I fall to the ground

 

Forgotten on the ground, alone with my brothers and sisters

I stare aimlessly into the grey sky

The wind has died now, its job here complete

Nothing remains, and all does look bleak

 

Where colours once did burn brilliant

All that remains is grey nothingness

Smothering the soul and welcoming despair

I take from this a cruel lesson

 

Ages come and go, time never slows

Beauty one day here is stolen the next

To be stripped away and forgotten

We end up like the leaves, dead and rotten

 

I close my eyes and give into fate

My time has come at last

Snow begins to fall blanketing my body

And I drift off into a restless state

The End

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