Tinges of the season.

Dusk itself now embarking onto a relief,
the world settles to a cozy rest.
Comfort encloses the heart as light illuminate the streets,
so intoxicating occasionally it embraces the souls fervently.
Darkness is the quilt we'll lie under soon,
yes; night is here.

Wafting through the air,
the season smells so sweet and harmonious,
prompting a reverie of soothing Earl in Grey.
How misty nostalgia can be,
especially upon the persuasion of a perennial tire.
But no, it's not lost.
Analogous to the son et lumiere,
the melody sounds so mellifluous,
I'm at peace.

Gasp* The story has grown since,
endeavors written like a fairy tale.
So ensnaring it is to reminisce in a garden of bliss,
ironic to the blood and tears that were shed.
As colorful glitters girdle sadness pass,
a heartfelt smile shines across stained faces.
Life brimming their emptiness again,
salient is the virtue of treasuring present.
As for the future, it rests for now.

Oh how sinful of me to forget,
about how breathtaking the world will be,
through the enchantment of a mere simper.
Eyes on the stars,
feet on the ground.
Forever is the journey to claim,
never-ending is our efforts to pursuit.
Know us not now is the time?
To rest and appreciate,
upon a season showered by love?

The chilling solstice rings contradictorily,
to the warm spirits eagerly shrouding the snow.
All ye gentle-souls walking this earth,


A merry festive season to thee...