Spring awakens, soft and bright, A world reborn in golden light.
Each memory blooms, untouched by time, Names like rivers, smooth, in rhyme.
Faces shine in vibrant hue, Every story crisp and true.
The past and present intertwine, A mirror held, where young eyes shine.
But summer hums a slower tune, Days stretch long beneath the moon.
The sun still glows, yet shadows creep, A name misplaced, a thought runs deep.
Moments flicker, fade, return, A fleeting lapse, a slow concern.
Like waves that kiss the shifting shore, Some things don’t stay as once before.
A whispered phrase, a half-known song, Where clarity once reigned, now doubts belong.
Then autumn stirs in russet tones, A hush of wind, over mossy stones.
Leaves slip free in trembling flight, Like words once firm, now lost to night.
Stories scatter, wind-swept, bare, a vacant glance, a distant stare.
Time unravels, thread by thread, a tapestry of gold and red.
The scent of damp earth, a rustling sigh, as cherished fragments fade and die.
A hand outstretched, a name misplaced, A tether fraying, silk untraced.
And then the winter silence grows, a hush where once the laughter flowed.
The world now veiled in frosted glass, A mirror blurred, where echoes pass.
Footsteps falter, hands forget, The mind a maze of cold regret.
Yet deep within, where warmth still lies, A spark endures behind the eyes.
A barren wasteland, lost in snow, Yet love remains, a faint, warm glow.
Fingers trace a face unknown, A silent story, left alone.
For though the seasons claim their due, And minds may drift like morning dew,
Love lingers past the longest night, And even lost, still knows the light.
A soul’s soft echo on the breeze, A whispered name among the trees. Beyond the maze, a guiding hand, Love’s beacon shines through shifting sand.
