Paths

Trees cast away their leaves as if crying in sorrow lamentations for days of old.
Paths, old paths, lead now to other places,
Bitter ones, new ones, different ones,
And no traces of old footsteps are found,
As new ways of stepping the lands are on now.
Things of old are now no more
And the weather changed as once told.
Path is dead, new present is born,
Love of old is what I have forgot.
New blues are up high in the sky,
Showing a hopeful fate within days
But lamentations are not so easily left behind.
And sparks and beams of sorrow,
Are so often seen within this new fate.
Winter cries white tears and freezes the lies.
Autumn cries brown leaves and flowers whither.
I cry dry tears and old memories seem to fly.
New paths, new fate is already laid on the line.
Memories of old are now no more
I have changed as once told
Past is dead, a new me has born
Love of old is forever gone.

Sorrow scratches one’s memories but somehow new seasons are for one to bloom.
And what one was before will not soon come.


12 Jan. 07
RQ