Of tilled fields and meadows gold,
We rest until the clouds unfold.
Somber breaths in the wake of my sun,
A golden autumn and harvest moon.
Birdsong and dewdrops in the wind,
The canary speaks in a whistling croon.
I shed my sorrows beneath the ember,
Beneath your harrowing tongue and
Mist-laced poison cradling our lungs.
We breathe and wilt under skies of
Emerald, barren and brash as our
Amber skin unveiled in the tides.
Breach the earth and forlorn stone,
Yearning hidden behind wretched woes.
Carry the mountain and waters deep,
Watch these unfettered eyes gazing
Into the stars above, quietly obsolete.
Listen to the autumn wind before
These golden leaves shift into silver snow.
