An Ode to Melancholy

Maiden of Fall

Your laughter is like a ripple in river of ruin, your pained weep is an omen to fools. There's this little kind of madness in my heart, when your crimson-tinted ties align with mine. I feel like no one ever cares enough, it's only you who caresses my grief. Your cinnamon flavour breathe, seduce my ever-so-lonely skin, a touch that's kind of cold yet ignites my every inch. You kiss me something odd, so peaceful and crisp, my lips would be forever parched if not for your maple lips. Hold me tight like you always do, the serene in your arms as you heed me those books. The chronicles of withering flowers, the song of harvest moon, I'd enjoy our handful time, wearing that old bronze sweater and drinking that old cider wine. I love your grace and the same way your glooms. I love your golden fame and also your ashen dooms, I love you fluttering up and I'll pick you fallen down. I love your stillness at dawn and I'll hold your whispers at dark. There's a lot of art in the world, my love, but none like you.

The mist blazed at the rim of your eyes, in hazel wonders, the pearls of fright. Don't fear the destruction you'd bring to humankind, 'cause without you springs would be barely bright, you're the tide that brings the beauty to the time and you're the void that reminds me why to live life. I feel your ache each time you leave, but you still do it so that end can cease, Needles prick your heart when you leave my hands, and I'm the every reason when you come back. Don't lose your dazzling curve, do not sadden our parting, as you would still be here, in all my veins and arteries. I'd long for you, as the miser longs the mirth. My soul for you isn't seasons of earth but my soul for you is an everlasting curse. I'd wait for you in the most violent frost, in the lust of spring, I won't be lost, the cheer of summer, but you in my thoughts. The falling of leaves, the beauty as vibrance falls, would remain in me, my darling maiden of fall.