When conversations grow darker than night skies cold. And the tree leaves on the breeze fail to whisper the truth. What happens then, after Summer, so far away from the Springtime of youth? I don't know, but ergo Autumn. And with this quote end. Just as the rocks below look up to the sky above. Marylan spoke my mind in synonym that day, and so I'm through with love.
https://youtu.be/bM2DWKzhK58