Lillies and Ghosts

Summer only wants to make Autumn sad

Oh Summer,

With your long days and warm nights,

With your brown grass and fireflies,

The memories you've made,

The children you've taught.

To me you're only dead and hot.

Full of Jealous pride,

And arrogant stride.

You can be beautiful to an unknowing mind,

But your heat is the blinding kind.

Your smile is a grimace of ignorance,

Your heart is an Icarus.

Envious of Autumn days,

With soft dim rays,

The spring of the winter,

The twilight before hours of December.

Your catchy pop tunes,

Are not lyrical ruins.

Your colors are cheap,

They do not creep,

From the Universe's holes,

And fill out hollow souls.

Your water glistens,

But your winds do not listen.

They do not carry melodies,

Or poetry.

They are filled with greed,

They are filled with burnt aspen leaves.

Fall's melancholy,

Is caused by your own folly.

You spat blasphemy against the dying trees,

When you'd already killed the green.

For the colors you see might,

Merely be the Earth's last lullaby.