the seasons.

in spring, we were free to fly and wander the open fields hunting glory and revelling in the chase.

as spring drew to a close and summer began, we were the Kings who ruled the open fields wearing the scars and arrogance of victories on our sleeves as the green black and white fluttered proudly in the setting sun.

in summer, we lived like there was no tomorrow, watching soccer, suppering, just chilling out without a care in the world though there were thsoe pesky irritating tests right in the middle of the European championships

as summer ends and fall begins, sic transit gloria mundi. the glory has all but faded into a memory, waiting for a glorious feast and gathering to revive it. the freedom of summer is poisoned by the venomous grip of fall. like the leaves of autumn, our lives fade into memories.

tears in a departure hall, good byes at a coffeeshop. what can i do now as i stand alone in these chilling winds, but pull the coat ever closer and draw warmth from a bygone era. they were wrong, autumn here is merely a time of the year, sorely lacking in beauty.