A Bath to Succumb to September

A bath to succumb to September,

Let the warm encase my soul.

For with haste the cold will come,

Enwrapped in uncharted gales.

Within such a present I behold!

A towering shadow told by the clouds,

As if the sky their paper.

A sight to scare —

Allowing our belittled hearts to reside,

Unquestioning the cause of the powered darkness.

Why Physics! A noble answer.

A constant conveyance is ensued –

Our dearest sun is the cause,

No! The clouds surely take the blame!

Yet how untrue - they are only in passing,

like us.

I take the role of the ribbon!

A burnt orange in colour mirroring the now changing leaves.

The darkness shall not belittle,

From how created I need not know.

The rolling clouds will whisper their speak,

But upon decision I will whisper back.

As the leaves stop placing beside my feet,

And witness of snow becomes all the speak,

I shall not fear the impending winter,

For autumn will come in prior –

A wonder to overcome the dooming bleak.