Logo
Logo
Innovation­game

The end of Summer


Now that everyone has gone,
the empty sadness of the day
surrounds my soul, engulfs my heart
and mocks the yellow, lifeless Sun -
transposes azure skies to grey.
Like secret lovers forced to part
the hills begin to pine:
the lonely mists that ever swirl
within the minds of those who love
in vain, moisten my failing eyes;
the silent fronds my flesh enfurl
like cloudy strata from above -
awakened by eternal sighs
I rue what joy was mine.