The Autumn of Love

Even as the sun begins to fade into the yearly dusk,

The coldness of the winter has beseeched my heart.

What will avail this unwritten story, this unfinished painting?

Is it who I want it to be? or that who is meant to be?

Questions are asked and answered, yet remains a mystery of the future,

Why do we care so much, when we don't know if the world will last?

Yet, I and others go around, shopping for like a product,

Maybe in that we lose the beauty and serenity of love,

With all its ups and downs and non-regularity.

But why do expect in this imperfect world, a perfect story?

With our own cast, and actors and actresses handpicked?

Maybe in search of Gold we lost the Silver,

And in waiting for the Summer of Love,

We miss the Autumn of uncertainty, of the story unfolding,

Of a blanket to cover us from the bitter winter,

The season to remind us that exists there,

An Autumn of Love...