Universes behind our eyes' disguise
wait until one day tears arise
and fall like drenched leaves in the blank
that summer left, if we are frank
When colour spreads through our cold lives
Can't help but to have it strive,
my heart, for some security,
in your reign's ambiguity.
Slowly green trees in the city
wonder if they're seeking pity
with their bald heads so high up
but they know spring's a follow-up.
I'd rather have a heart of marble
than one of autumn's leaves to garble
my limbs with colour, my heart's all white,
and sometimes its weight feels just right.
