She’s the autumn serene and pure,
But her feelings are surprisingly obscure.
An infectious smile hanging like a jewel,
Her heart dying each minute but her lips befool.
Because autumn is a beautiful illusion even when everything dies.
She’s the lover of storms,
Weird obsessions, distinct from girly swarms.
Relate and share the pain,
With the sky who is rolling rain.
Because sky also screams and cries.
She’s akin to moon,
Sealed in layers in her fathomless cocoon.
A pitch black side where stars fail to shimmer,
A cold side of hers where even the fire ball shivers.
Because she’s hiding phases of herself in those azure eyes.