I greet icy wind when the seasons change

No shock to the troubles seen through my eyes;

The hands of time stutter and rearrange.

Who is to blame for why we say goodbye?

 

Behind blinded eyes, a sweet denial;

A fallacy lives on the river bend.

These cruel words will be the sunset’s smile,

And we all drown everyday to pretend.

 

Envision the clear sky casting you clues,

The way your warm touch wraps around my skin.

Delicate, never ending, subtle hues,

Like a soft language never spoken in.

 

Yet flowers planted in months so bitter,

Have not quite yet decided to wither.

 

This is my Sonnet, please don't steal without crediting me.

And those flowers...are withering. I lost him.

Done