Without fail, you follow me and breeze in,
Bringing along nostalgia's hidden fears.
My evergreen, your beauty transcends years,
As photographic visions pine my skin.
Autumn muse, I watch you fade away.
Must we still be grafted for a reason?
Appearing only late in the season,
Like ivy in the wild, it won't decay.
The hardest branch to break in early spring,
is when life pollinates into our scene,
as our elusive metaphors grow green,
And I'll await autumn's definite sting.
Forgotten **** however invasive,
Your roots remain forever persuasive.
Nov 7, 2025
Nov 7, 2025 at 1:03 PM UTC
Without fail, you follow me and breeze in,
Bringing along nostalgia's hidden fears.
My evergreen, your beauty transcends years,
As photographic visions pine my skin.
Autumn muse, I watch you fade away.
Must we still be grafted for a reason?
Appearing only late in the season,
Like ivy in the wild, it won't decay.
The hardest branch to break in early spring,
is when life pollinates into our scene,
as our elusive metaphors grow green,
And I'll await autumn's definite sting.
Forgotten **** however invasive,
Your roots remain forever persuasive.
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