As The Second Hand Clicks,
On A Scarred Clock's Face,
The Days Become Shorter,
Breaths Become Abrupt And Shallow

Brittle Leaves,
Crumble Under Quiet Feet,
And **** Branches,
Give Intruders A Silent Kiss
Words Not Even Spoken,
Are Hushed By The Wind

The Cold Air,
Soothes The Stars,
Making Them Looked Refreshed,
Allowing Them To Glitter,
In Glassy Green Eyes

The Atmosphere,
Begins To Thin Out,
Comets Dive,
Though The Surface,
Like Dolphins,
But They Hold An Impossible Promise,
A Wish,
A Secret
A Star Dangles From Her Neck,
A Wish,
A Promise

What Does Autumn Hold?
What Does Winter?
Spring?
Summer?
Will I Be Able To Curl Up In Loving Arms?
Or Will I Be Curling Up In The Snow?
As The Seasons Change, Shall I?
As Summer Dwindles Into Autumn,
Shall I Change With The Seasons?
Shall I Become Brittled, And Weak,
Like The Autumn Leaves,
Or The Decreasing Sunlight?
Or Shall I Bloom Like The Stars,
In Winter's Night Sky