You will become a shadow
diminishing with the growing day
a cloud moving across the sun
a kiss of shade upon my face
as I wither and fall in place
cast aside to be forgotten perhaps
as you lay in your imposter's arms
Was our love anything more than a magician's sleight
Misdirection and showman's grace
Not real, perhaps, but oh so enchanting
As we came from different solstices
You in your winter palace, me my summerland
A love born in Autumn, now lost to another fall
What is left to me
If these are the last words I write for you
I will write a love song, not a dirge
You were a promise, touched by lies
but still, in essence a hope like a feathered wing
As you become a shadow
and I, something less than before
withering in the autumn
A feather, a shadow, falling in the breeze
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