My river has run dry
The leaves have all
Fallen
What was a summer bliss,
Sun kissed skies of blue
Became an autumn recollection,
The sorrow season, then
Became winter's dying song
The knell of ice, tolling
Until the last drop of life
Was spent
Now my eyes are opened
And the light hurts, it does
The pain of knowing is sharp,
It truly is
But I'll mend
I'll sew myself up
And begin again
Like I always do
Note: Inspired by Francesco Petrarca's "Sonnet 292," a poem to which mine does not hold a candle.
