Seasonal

When the world is turning dark outside, The mirror’s within reflect the black back into your soul.

And no matter which paths you choose, The winding roads mean you will always loose your goal.

The rust coloured leaves, blow down the street, a pile grows and people kick them away.

The rain pours and your umbrella breaks but you can’t do anything bout it, just carry on you can’t delay.

As cold turns to freezing and day into night, the puddles from water turn into ice.

And you slip and you stumble, you trip and you fall and you know your hearts already done that all, and it’s not nice.

The cold penetrates your knitted jumper and your skin turns paler than before, complexion of a corpse.

A shiver runs down your spine, your body quivers and aches, your body arches and warps.

As you breathe that familiar cloud floats into the night sky, it is set free, is it your soul?

And as it disperses and disappears you see the raindrops turn to tears and the cold and ice turn into your darkest fears, you look up your eyes as dark as coal.

 

 

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