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Part 3: Fire and Light


~.~

As the last leaves of autumn fall, I realize I dread the coming of winter. The fiery hues of the season that I love have turned ash-brown; the world is but one wind away from wilting.

The lake by my house would soon freeze into an unanimated, suspended state of immobility, with the sheen of frost reflecting a grey, drab sky. Snow would come too, and most life would sleep. I wish to continue sleeping with them.

Let me not wake from this illness; let me pass into the light with vibrant memories of the last leaf of the season.

~.~

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