It's like a cycle.
He enters at the rate,
any new-comer would.
Charming.
Gentle.
Fast as that autumn breeze,
he illustrates a whirl in your mind.
Your life.
You depic beauty in his eyes.
Autumn bursts into a heavy fall.
Face first,
and he is no where.
Your eyes weather.
They bring heavy rain.

It's like a cycle.

A hope,
a glimmer,
is upon the iced winter.
The air crisp as a sweet apple.
A stable environment,
happiness birthed each day.
All stood at a pause,
but a warmth seemed to be inching.
Suttle and simple
Beauty had arisen,
in oranges, pinks, and blues.
Spring.
You were being educated,
in what was once,
the love of autumn.
Warmth.
Compassion.
Greater and unwilling to harm...
An unjust statement.
A drizzle,
and he vanished.

It's like a cycle.

A blazing sunshine.
A clear sky.
A past to be forgotten.
The grass healthy,
as footprints were laid upon it.
Laughter is where it was chosen to be.
A memory,
never to be forgotten.
Not a change in the air,
but a slight breeze.
It was over.
Beauty was freshly created.
Life was returned in your eyes...
But you had failed to visualize,
a season,
once born,
must die,
and must return once more.
In a silent twilight,
he brings another autumn.

It is a cycle.