Autumn
When they grow and shine,
It marks the genisis of enchanted ambience.
And everything looks alluring.
When they turn weak and dry,
It marks the beginning of dawn.
And everything feels incomplete.
There is an enigma of thoughts
That rumbles inside the body.
Yet there is some feeling
Which embraces it's occurence.
It's the longing to see them shine again.
It's autumn which is so known for love
And missing the ones you once loved.
It's just ambiguous what it feels.
Some cherish the natures aesthetics together,
And some miss the spring memories alone.
Yet Eating cider doughnuts,
jumping over a pile of sycamore leaves,
Taking photographs and enjoying bonfire
Enliven everyone up.
That's why it's my favourite
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