In antiquated days of celestial lore
sad Persephone was cast down below earth's sodden form, held hostage weeping amongst the shades for succor from the sun.
Unending overcast from below lifts beyond
The netherworld to the sky above sheltering a somber mood:light becomes retracted as darkness extends in deference to profane love of sin and destitution.
Then in Summer's decline, Autumn wraps the land in melancholy shadow, the Sun watches the rebirth of its forgotten child stolen from its embrace by the ragged receding days that lay behind.
The whispered scents of decaying Summer
make vapid each brilliant hue of foliage, by their myriads scattered on the earth; the force of season's turn upon the glass pane of sky that gently shatters. Walking on the dried thin husks of leaves as on endless shards of glass, the crunch of each beneath one's feet-- broken pieces of sorrow calling out with each step. Unending flora become
decrepit and unfold melting through the winter's cold
Until it's fringe touches the edge of spring.
--Alexander R., Adult