The day is gracious, warm and soft,
A tender breeze that greets the morn
Ah! Last of the leaves wearing frost
Rattle, O! why shall they mourn?
Amid the memories are they lost?
Waiting yet…Waiting to be reborn.
For the winter’s left its frozen trails
Delicate, delicate, delicate…so
Collapses below the leave’s mail.
With every passing they shall know,
The imprints of the hands must fail.
Deep is the impression of spring, lo!
Confessions of a Haunted Mind - There are parts of me so dark even I don’t wish to dwell there too long, pieces of my life no-one will ever hear about unless you happen to have bee...
15 hours ago