By Natalie Ohanian
dear autumn is a season filled with rot,
the air always has a sense of decay,
summer is in ashes and in her spot,
a corpse, a violent and beaut’ful display.
her blood coats the land in orange and red,
her flesh falls off her elegant tall frame,
and all the colors that summer has bled,
will set the autumn earth and trees aflame.
but the state of decay won’t stay or last,
this beauty will fade, just as sets the sun,
as soon as it’s begun, autumn has pass’d,
and summer's corpse will be a skeleton.
this death is a cycle that will sustain;
fear not, summer will come and die again.
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