And here you arrive.
A remembrance of new
Thoughts intertwined with
The awareness of an
Ending of stories
Much like my own.
A thread of silver
That finds no wisdom,
A smear of red that
no longer subdues a life
A curl of smoke that
No longer pretends to
Represent the fire
Of what used to be
Because despair stole
The spring that came
Before you could
Complete the circle
Of belief in the one who
Created the very leaf
Who continually falls
In fear of your breath.
Oh the anticipation of you
Never quite embraces
All that you are and
Hold not dear.