Spring,

Blossoming flower fields lay the way,

She went forth on parting day,

forging chains of friendship,

climbing the cliffs of acumen,

or so I thought



Summer,

The sun clinging to the high,

The up-most inclines to fall,

The employer’s will spooked by her sigh,

Her demeritorious mouth beckons a lie,

“I will commit suicide”



Autumn,

Previously green truths,

Frivol away,

taking on a dreary shade,

“It’s my elusive technique”,

she replied to my dismay



Winter,

Shocks of freezing cold,

Twisting flowers gray

Stagnate growth and all viability,

Beneath your practical technique,

Lays no more credibility!

Spawning imperious dusk,

From darkest nights once green,

Obliterating yelping stars,

Hastily banish writings upon thee,

Above a world frozen in agony,

Beneath your conscience lurks an unearthly scheme,

Your gruesome suicide scene.