Gray skies and Bleak souls,
Dry lips and sweet scents.
Chilling winds taking its toll,
As smiling reaper gets its stroll.
And thus, I rest;
After dry leaves ceases its quest.
As Sangria wine inks my lips,
And as a result, my conscience trips.
Thus the Autumn stained my soul,
Overloaded meself sensory,
Despair and anguish following me.
Cosmos making me meet misery.
And now she will be taken away,
Her thoughts swing like vines sway.
Her mind wept,
And now my sinned heart confessed the love which was inept.
