Another season's shadow bends and weeps. The sun retreats, the morning keeps silent. Amber leaves falter, surrendering to the ground. What remains but footsteps, ghosts profound? Darker now, the clock betrays its chime. Days are fleeting whispers, bridled by time. Wind gathers fragments, secrets scattered wide. Loss rides the gale, no heart can abide. Even dawn fears to touch the barren trees. Forgotten is the gold that kissed the breeze.