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Autumn
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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Sep 8, 2014
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Poetry
The aroma of pumpkin spice filled his nose, flooded his head, and filled his heart. It was her, the one with hair the colour of dried blood, the one with eyes the colour of warm co-co, the one with skin as soft and white as fresh snow. If you could take the season itself, and add in all that is wonderful in the world you will get Autumn.
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A story of how the enemy became the saviour. She had hair the colour of fiery flames and eyes of blue jewels that pierced one's soul with a harmless gaze. I loved her upon meeting and knew I could never be happy without her by my side. His eyes like pools of blood in the crisp snow, his blonde hair the perfect accessory to his pale skin, however, despite his cold appearance a fire raged inside, a fire I found I couldn't stay away from. He was my life, my love, and without him I was nothing. But things had changed since then, they were now bound together by more than love and they were about to find out whether their love was enough to overcome these new bonds, or whether they would be subjected to spending the rest of eternity apart.

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