that every day I’m living is a far cry from sincere,
and existence is a lie to which I can’t but help adhere.

~ Coming to ~

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for nobody here can hear
nor see you ‘neath their many furs
and shoes not made for Winter

~ Unprepared ~

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but heed the open wound and the beating heart;
there will be blood, my dear, there will be blood.

~ And still I write in thought of her ~

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Come blossom dance, help me forget,
with Spring in every step.

~ Remedy ~

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Shadows pass, as lovers will,
‘tis but the sun that’s loyal still.

~ English Summer ~

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The laden truth, if so enticed,
is every heart will have a price.

~ Laden truth ~

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The cruel, the kind, the both we’ll find
and both are ours to keep.

~ Occupation ~

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So soon much more than just a game,
like hot, dry fields when kissed by flame.

~ Riddled clues ~

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Like Autumn leaves fall from their trees,
I’ll lay amongst. Come gather me.

~ Gathering leaves ~

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