The Echoes of Seasons

The Echoes of Seasons

The echoes of seasons
The day's noon befalls,
With no particular reasons
There are echoes and calls;
In the dim and dark hour
With a frosty frost song,
Sullen its winter flower
If the dark will prolong.

A time to harvest thoughts
That come besides dreams,
In all these shadows blots
From flickering lights beams;
Some might just have a say
Of things that are not real,
And with your astude play
In this light and dark duel.

The echoes of the night
Times for thoughts and seeing,
Until again it's all bright
For pleasurable and being;
Let nothing come to bloom
That has only frosty days,
And with the light is doom
As the sun rises and plays.