The stars may seem pretty
but many forget
the stars are dead,
and they shine
as a result
of their death

When the seasons
fade to fall
here on Earth,
the greens of the trees
fade to oranges, reds and yellows

The smell of morning dew
gets stronger, every waking minute
as each morning passes
the leaves begin to fall
for they cannot hold on no more

When the season
becomes fall,
it may seem pretty
but by winter you realize
everything was dying

People are like seasons, they’ll fade away too
They can grow old
or lose themselves
from searching for something
that can’t be found

I see myself
fading as the days go by,
because of the choices I’ve made
I am filled with regret
and all I wish to regain my strength

I refuse
to lose all of who I am
But I fear
there is no way to save myself
from the probability I will wither

until there’s nothing left.