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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
It's basically a story of the seasons in poem form. Tell me what you think in the comments!

Submitted: August 17, 2017

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Submitted: August 17, 2017



Ever heard of the world?
Ever heard of the sun?
Ever heard the whispers?
Ever needed to run?

Ever touched the coals,
Ever felt the breeze,
Ever tasted the snowflakes,
Ever fallen with those leaves?

Winter was always my favorite,

Summer, I always hated.

Spring was too lively,

Fall... brought back memories...


Of the night on the floor,
Where she fell,
With the signs of fall,
Falling, flaming, cracking.


Winter, I've always needed,

Summer I never wanted,

Spring, I wished would end,

but Fall... fall's where I fall.


She was there by the pond,
She was there, sitting on,
The log, with the frog,
After a midnight jog.

He... he was dying there in the dark,
Lying there, with no sparks.
His blood was so fresh,
Staining red, the dirt mesh,
It was cold, it was warm,
It was freezing, but she touched him.

Tell me, have you ever,
Touched the water of the pond,
Down by his backyard?
Ever felt the cold of his breath,
on your skin? He's the bond.

Tell me, have you ever,
smelled the blood, heard the laugh,
seen the part, touched his heart,
watched him fall, tear down walls,
burned in guilt, saved his quilt?

Fall, most associate leaves with fall,
but fall, all I see in fall is him,

He haunts, he taunts,
he teases, he freezes,
He falls, he breaks,
He's torn, but he doesn't cry

The boy with the smile,
That voice, so mild,
That hand with two rings,
That boy... he's spring.

They were young, naive,
They were spoiled, couldn't see,
Except the could, just wouldn't believe,
That everything everyone else said would be
True, full, right, right?

They didn't believe, but it happened,

They didn't grieve, but it came to them,

They fell, they died,

but they didn't, and another year later,

 They'll rise.

And then fall with fall,
Drift with the leaves,
Bleed like the floor,
But live like the trees.

Then there's fall.
Everyone else was too,
Busy crying over those two to,
See that girl, crushed beneath the walls,
Heal that girl, fated to be the floor.

She was ugly, but her heart so pretty,
She had voice, but she never had the need,
To voice her thoughts, she listened while other taught,
She was forgotten, she was detested, she was abandoned,
By the human race, by the animals, by the lakes, by the air,
But she, stayed, quiet, tired, broken, half-frozen, trying, dying.

She loved Spring, she did, they were meant to be, she'd said,
But Summer made him forget, that midnight girl his heart did get,
Fall was forgotten, but she never forgot, what Summer did that night by the log,
She killed him, she did, she laughed, she did, they loved her, they did, and he loved her, he did.
But she crushed him, she hurt him, she turned him to dust,
It was only right that Fall did what she could and hugged him as he died,
She cried with him, but he was blind, he never got again to see the girl, who once captured his heart, his mind,
Together, Spring and Fall, they fused as they fell, to begat the Winter darkness to crush the Summer laughter.

But it happens all over again, once every year, ten times every decade, a hundred every century, 
They never learn, never will, just like some humans, at least those without wills.


© Copyright 2019 Jungy. All rights reserved.

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