Who could have though that two worlds,
Created by the solstices of time
Would start a spark but never a flame,
Fall for love’s religion and never be the same?
A tale as old as time,
Hearts being broken all the same
Spring and Autumn,
Unrequited lovers filled with pain.
Autumn, he’s in love with Spring.
Her beauty, it captivates.
Her presence, it illuminates.
He dreamt like a hopeless romantic,
Knowing she’d never be attracted to him.
Spring, she’s enthralled by Summer.
Autumn was more of a dream beyond her horizon,
“He’s so close, yet so far. We could never be.” she’d say.
As the bees settled
in her warm and embracing haze.
A single day, one singular moment,
Autumn dreamed to be like Summer,
Be that lover that absolutely had a fool of Spring.
Just for a day, maybe two.
Transparency, clarity, melancholy,
One thing is sure in reality.
For all my intensity and complexities,
I need you to love me beyond all my imperfections,
Till then, my heart could never recover from love’s
infection.
“Winter, Spring, Summer, Autumn,
Never in the crevices of time would we meet.
You’re a beauty, I’m a wallflower,
And I’m eternally cursed to cower,” said Autumn
“My Autumn, I write to you for I’ve never been this blue.
You may not ever read this letter but Summer’s no good.
He’s mocks, belittles and mistreats me,
My bees are the only thing giving me a slither of comfort.
Forever yours,” She wrote.
Unbeknownst to the other seasons,
Autumn’s browning and golden hue,
Is a result of a love untrue.
Nothing but scarves and leaves,
For a lover he thought he still needs.
Love was the lie and religion was taught.
Composure and closure.
He was never going to get the girl,
She was never going to experience the boy.
He was complex,
She was simple.
He was an amber brown,
She was pale pink.
Two worlds, living lives just as vivid as the other.
Their days are filled with melancholy.
Loves as sour as vinegar.
And Autumn?
He’s Sonder’s son.
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