The stench hangs crisp in the air,
the smell of death promising life
after an eternal sleep.
Inanimate things have new spirits,
familiarities become haunted and strange.
You tingle as you step outside,
the bitter wind swirling in the warm air.
The thought of sleep clouds your mind
as new life rushes through your veins.
Barren trees tell ghostly tales
of headless horsemen’s midnight rides
and poor souls seeking their salvation.
Earthy tones color the world
and nature’s death looks so alive
when anticipating Winters blanket.
Shadows are no more themselves,
but resemblances of those who live
and cautions from those who died.
Fear and excitement fill the air
as nightmares lurk in the daylight
and dead leaves come to life.
To harness the beauty of this day
would surely be to capture the world
in its rawest form.
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