The autumn time was not merciful
The leaves fell as I did for you
I swayed to mirror your smile
Echoing those words in my head
My colors fading, anticipating the coming rebirth
That experts promised,
That the gentle wind blowing from your lips would ease my fall
And lead me to your kiss
A bittersweet remedy to your absence
But you lost your power
In winter, things are still
Too cold to move, or change
The mirror frosted over
The course disengaged, to prove
That someday this may effect us both
The greatest irony in our ways
I, your perfect archetype
Am far from your hand
And though I doubted in our walk,
I dissent from our path firmly now
And move toward where the birds flock
Where your kiss is niether key or lock
