The cold winds of change leave nothing to spare,
As skin prickles and the sun bows farewell,
A force awakens and all are aware,
Of how life will turn on this carousel.
The luscious grass passes and goes to seed,
And the final surviving leaf floats by,
Where impressions of the truth are decreed,
Landing and shattering to edify.
A message of the unknown now lost to time,
This must be deciphered in all due course,
With naught an idea of the paradigm,
Just as inconspicuous as the source.
Piecing the fragments in desperation,
All to find what should already be known,
A madness caused by frenzied fixation,
As the words are mulched and the wind has flown.
