Back to the arms of the Creator
Back to the arms of the Creator
Taronis-2004
Autumn winds, a cool sun, as the summer strength bids its last
I see the sun lower each day, darkness spreads over the light
Dreams of days, sweet and warm, days that have rapidly past
Glimmers on dark-speckled waters of youth that could not endure
I see those days, long-ago, pleasant, yet now somehow obscured
Tainted in the worry of darkness beckoning, the glow’s final task
The greens to ambers and wind-swept reds, time lacking, one last look
As the brightness passes over long-away hills, a single shaft of daylight
Casts long shadows toward the east, as twilight falls, as summer passes
Beckoned homeward my worn-out soul, back to the arms of the Creator
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