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Autumnal
The sun
through haze,
through haze,
a presentiment
of dwindling days.
On the shoulders
of triumph
rides
defeat.
Darker days,
when there's
no warmth to
brush away the dew,
of dwindling days.
On the shoulders
of triumph
rides
defeat.
Darker days,
when there's
no warmth to
brush away the dew,
when harder nights
come to chill the view
so bone-hard
the moon shines
on till frost proclaims
and winter reigns supreme.
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