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Seasons
Another season dies, and hope fades with Autumns frost.
Speak softly, and smile on me, as I gaze at Sols demise.
There is no warmth from that golden glow, yet I fear not, I fear not.
The end will come unannounced, but not without warning.
Yellow will fade to pink, then purple, but I will not lose my way.
A billion candles softly glowing, cast silver shadows across my path,
But I can still see, I can see, my path does not fade like my youth.
With cool flames they bring me a warmth from within that prevails,
A billion memories flickering silently, bathing me in melancholy.
Nature teases my nose with frost, but still I plod ever forward.
No despair, no despair, for I smile, finding pleasure with each cool breath.
Such wonder to behold as the old one dies in preparation for the new.
Soft oblivion beckons as I walk beneath Autumns shroud.
Gray months, with crisp clear nights, will melt into a new beginning.
Newer than I, but I live, yes I live, until I too, die.
By rcpollitz (About rcpollitz)
© 2001 rcpollitz (All rights reserved)
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