It's down season. Vagabond leaves linger on the trees waiting for the merciless wind
The grass is brown and listless like an unknown soldier fallen...
The earth is barren hard unforgiving locking up it's secrets tight, tight
In the secret landscape of my heart it's down season too
Feelings not so precise as sadness do not well up
so much as float like bloated corpses in the shallows of my emotions
It's down season the dead leaves whisper. Come away with us...away...
My pen once sharp is rusty and dull making only imprecise scratchings.
And sometimes(only sometimes) I fain would lie in Morpheus' arms
and embrace the cold depths like a lover
Down season is and it remains an unwanted guest or at worst an unspoken truth
I know(I think I know) that it cannot stay, that spring will come-it must
For now, in this down season I wait
and hope
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