Watched by the painted skies,
My floating memories like leaves,
Green yellow-red and orange,
Leaping from the trees.
Somehow the wind has lost my dreams,
Blowing harsh against the cold,
Seems my wishes are dashed,
Has life made me too old?
Sometimes the stillness of days,
Spent kicking piles and piles of me,
Old leaves that failed to die,
Waiting for their color to be.
September’s sadness crying in the rain,
One life to give… one ember of love,
No winter can enter… no time can be regained,
A fear-filled shiver of autumn from above.
When the ground demands my soul,
It will be in the winter when tears have learned to freeze,
Every autumn’s tears shall not be shed for me,
For then… my true colors in the wind.. will play their magic keys.