You must walk through summer’s blaze,
where heat and haste paint every day,
with golden hours that slip too fast,
and dreams that burn but never last.
Only then, as shadows grow,
will autumn call you soft and slow,
with colors bright yet fading fast—
the calm that follows seasons past.
Apr 10, 2025
Apr 10, 2025 at 4:51 AM UTC
You must walk through summer’s blaze,
where heat and haste paint every day,
with golden hours that slip too fast,
and dreams that burn but never last.
Only then, as shadows grow,
will autumn call you soft and slow,
with colors bright yet fading fast—
the calm that follows seasons past.
Summer was loud, but autumn gets me...
