At the door way of your heart
I looked upon your eyes
autumn lakes, deep and quiet
whisper a sad tune
of the recession of spring.

Somber mourning
of the slow melt of curb side snow,
the gentle budding of weathered trees,
a caress of a kind warmth.

I stumble upon confession
bound in chain
locked away in a blood dimmed labyrinth
it's hushed resonance weighs upon me
as fantasy comes flooding.