the seagulls signed your coming
the leaves were scattered, paving your way home
i was there, behind our oak, autumn's forthcoming
the branches get broken, symbolling the freedom
each winter is cooler than the last one
the blanket warms me but your hands did it better
it wasn't anticipated when everything has just begun
seasons effect on the atmosphere except the weather
the sky is empty of coulds, only an eternal dark
the sunlight was being dulled, nothing left clear
when mistakes put our devotion in a question mark
no wonder no one of us wants to exist here
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