What makes the seasons. Do they not exist outside you. An ocean of waves,
Harmonic leave’s falling,
Dropping tears of joyful death into the minds.
Painting a new beginning of life.
It’s ok to embrace the beauty.
Soon blankets will be given and the fires,
Basing tomorrow on the fantasy,
Basing footing in the reality
The sun rising,
Over and over
The moon turns the sea and time,
A prediction of future using the past.
The sun will rise from darkness.
And give life.
About the Creator
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This was such beautiful poetry. Very nicely done :)