Every leaf is pale it's that time of year,
Nobody hear the screams of the wild wind
Taking dry leaves as relics....
A posy so dearer ,
Nobody dare to crush ... so tightly grouped up...
The wild wind is numb..
The realm of Quandary
Scattered across not in sum
Enthroned a wise being on a devastated throne
impending for glory to shone
Long yearned it's that time of year,
to be known and deem
Not be so mere!
© asmazaroo