Poetry

Seasons

When the world is not watching,
She travels back in time,
Unraveling the secrets in the gardens of that uprooted mansion,
As the walls bleed stories of her past,
And each step repaints the colours of her memories.
Only in the hazy state of her mesmerized mind,
She reminisces her secretive talks with those shady trees bearing light,
And she could still hear the chirps of her best companions, though not to be found,
Unfazed by the outerly world,
She climbs those steps again,
One each at a time,
That door which was closed for eons, she unlocks,
And sees her brightest fantasies come alive,
As the window captures all possible shades of life,
She still carries the dreams of a child,
The lavender leaves still seem to scent her brunette hair,
The oak tree still seems to smile from a mile,
That small little boy still seems to wave at her, but this time it's a goodbye,
Not only to her,
But to her and her memories of past,
And just as she saw those autumn leaves strewn in the lawn, apart,
She knows that spring is long gone, and now it's a reminder for her lost soul to be revived.