The Dieing Existence of Autumn
The sun is screened
Dulled and asleep.
The air seeps in cool tendrils
As the fall glides in.
And the fleece blanket calls.
The couch by the window
Whispers lullabies into the room.
The setting sun peaks in
With sad, drooping eyes
As the light fades into the ground.
Loneliness creeps around
Tiptoeing like a thief.
Sleeping away this dreary day,
I am safe from the sneaking
And sinking feelings
That I am so easily a prey.
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