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Autumn poetic Spirit


The wind whips the dormant plains

And brings with him acid pains

Autumn is naught, my age wanes

A falling leaf is a view that ails..

Through the empty lane i drift sailing

In morbid thoughts, sorrows prevailing

And in the lamplight, a fairy wing spinning

An aura of death, it is the only feeling

The fleeting whiles with grief, are ages

Left like dead leaves, on brievity pages

The red hues the Fall leaves in his wake

And the howling wind, its turn; takes

Black silence haunts the trees like raven

Standing with hollow trunks, ominous gaping

A hazy beyond gleans all the eye is seeing

Sending the spirit into a shrouded being


I feel deeply this Fall, the boredom of all

Only an eager desire: an aimless stroll

And behold the misty face of dead Sol

And drip my leaves, before a death call

By poetsword

© 2019 poetsword (All rights reserved)


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