Shed on that certain kind of warmth
You give the waters that washed away our footsteps
Illumine the dark leaves of our past
Blown away by the indifferent breeze.
Desiccate the grass that invited conversations
But leave the roots unscorched.
I prayed to Autumn to blow away my pains
But Winter entertained me instead.
I won’t let Spring visit me
Until you burn down her cold heart, Summer.
Jun 21, 2012
Jun 21, 2012 at 8:12 PM UTC
Shed on that certain kind of warmth
You give the waters that washed away our footsteps
Illumine the dark leaves of our past
Blown away by the indifferent breeze.
Desiccate the grass that invited conversations
But leave the roots unscorched.
I prayed to Autumn to blow away my pains
But Winter entertained me instead.
I won’t let Spring visit me
Until you burn down her cold heart, Summer.
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