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Is it love, or just a season?
Will these tender leaves of affection
Remain green, when facing death in autumn?
Like an amour with promises broken
will my love just wither and fall?
Just to become another mural
Adorning my life's wall?
Will my heart remain this artless?
Or will I lose it in the world, so merciless?
I look at the rose, and it is egress,
Hidden are thorns even under the state of grace.
So will my innocence wither and fall?
Just to become another mural
Painted on a dusty attic wall?
Will my life remain bright and serene?
Like the calm of ocean depths unseen,
Or like those pebbles lying in the ravine,
It will lose its light and sheen?
Will my esse wither and fall,
Just to become another mural
On history's aged wall?
Will my soul remain pure and white,
Like the glorious moon on cloudless nights?
Or will it too ebb out of sight
Just like the fading stars in daylight?
In this world all shall wither and all shall fall
But only to become another mural
Cherished on someone's memory wall
~ Feronia Grey
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A/N: This is a poem about a young dreamer, understanding the deep aspects of life.
