The Final Season

The final season

Her breath drifted upon the winter breeze reminiscent of a spirit lost
Dancing and twirling through the air until it quietly faded
Her footprints on the barren ground were as islands encircled by the morning frost
Trying to console herself with warm thoughts, alas she found them all cold and jaded
The sun tried to embrace her, but the cloud’s shadow left her alone and spirit broken
The season she cherished as a youth, even calling her own,
Now found her alone, praying that on this day she had never awoken
The cold, whispers to her cruelly, reminding her how weak and frail she has grown
From this winter she shall not pass, spring’s first light will find her heart at ease
Life’s four seasons, for her, have come full circle at last
Her soul will soon be adrift like a breath upon the winter breeze
But on this day her heart will mourn for a time long since past