MistahLarry (@MistahLarry)

"Autumns Fading Gold" In the hush of autumn’s fading gold, Where leaves surrender to the frost’s command, I wandered paths that ancient maples told, Of dreams once verdant, now a barren land. The spirit’s fire, that Emerson would claim As self-reliant spark against the night, Grows dim in winds that whisper doubt’s cold name, And truth unveils what seemed eternal light. No more the illusions of the spring’s deceit, Where brooks sang promises of endless youth; Reality’s rough hand, unyielding, meet The soul that sought the stars, but found the truth. Yet in this stripping bare, a quiet grace— The wood’s stark beauty, etched in winter’s vein, Teaches the heart to find its truer place, Beyond the veil, where loss becomes the gain.