She was born in a cold september,
the season where the bloom is reborn,
its trees seem to laugh,
at the same time with the newborn baby.

The air captivates with its tenderness,
along with the breeze of the forest,
watching cautiously,
the steps of his own girl.

The current spring breeze,
it swarm seems to approach,
to the heart of the newborn,
giving a beautiful flower in the grove.

Her smiling face is happier,
with the essences of summer,
it waves peacefully crash,
welcoming an adult woman.

The years have passed,
from baby to adult,
how beautiful it is to live!

She has already walked the path,
the one that life offered her,
and the one she must see,
for the last time:

With her eyes.

And the autumn claimed her life,
stealing its spring beauty,
the leaves withered,
her soul remained somber.

Winter noticed her absence,
they say he cried so much,
giving rise to flooded cities,
for his sad agony.

And the four seasons,
they were not again,
the same as before.

© whodoesntlovespring