Fluttering against the seas of change
The waves are crashing
In brighter shades so adorned
Upon the winds so drafting

After crawling to the wreckage
Silken remains wither
No need to stay in these salad days
The winds so gently whisper

The wax shines brightly
Can sense the need to crawl
So begins the many lives
Until the end of summer, really had it all.