Red and brown swirl into a full eclipse,

Chasing away the gold.

Summer sun be gone;

the cold is upon us now

The dark and the damp, the ripe and rank,

the destruction and the darkness await.

Back into old habits I go.

No new beginnings,

when I am so content with the old endings.

They cry and they worry

They present bleeding hearts to so match my own bleeding arms.

But it's a storm in here,

Don't come near.

Too many lines and confusion

I can't untangle my thoughts for you

too many sentences and too few words are what I can give to you

I'm a mess of painted signs.

My tainted feathers,

only black weathers