With each Autumn passing through
I see the seed of languish
Implanted every time a new
In the rocky crust of my heart.

With each Autumn passing through
I see my scaly, flaky skin
Unwind a layer off,
Aged debris revealing deep dark secrets.

With each Autumn passing through
I see the robust rust
Gnawing at my inability,
Scoffing my withered, wilted reflection.

With each passing Autumn, all fallen and fruitless
I ever so wonderfully see,
You scraping off all seeds of slag,
And flowers bloom so miraculously on my core-bed.

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