Sweet Autumn Comes Through Her Door

Sweet Autumn comes through her door,

She doesn’t knock, or call.

She simply glides through, in shades of

Orange, yellow, red, and brown.

It arrives at the young lady’s room,

But stops by the door, peering in.

High-ceilinged. Walls, windows and all things

Covered in drapes and flowing sheets.

The young woman lay in darkness, enveloped in shadow.

Her pulse was slow, her hands felt cold.

Eyes bruised from tears and torment, they didn’t open

Like they had all other times before when the month

Of beautiful Autumn arrived.

Autumn’s mere presence swept a continuous flow of crisp leaves to

Rise and fall, circulating It’s fine form as It stood

In the light of the hallway, by the woman’s open door.

Autumn swam up in the air, through swirling leaves and broken branch.

It dared enter the room, where shadow ate away at goodness and light.

The edges of It’s fingers and clothes blackened soon after,

Something unseen lightly clawed at It’s eyes, but Autumn didn’t falter.

It arrived by her bed. All was silent, nothing moved, or moaned, or wailed.

Everything was just silent, but in that quiet something sinister stirred,

As though waiting, like a predator hungry and hiding.

But still, Autumn did not fear seep into It’s heart.

“You do not scare me, poor beast of depravity and woe”, It stated gently,

“This child is not meant for you, nor any child for that matter.”

Autumn jumped suddenly, and leapt around the room in a flurry of

Smoke, leaf, and rustling sounds.

The room began to shake. Dust fell onto the floor, and sheet and drape collapsed, falling away from what they made hidden.

A great golden ray of light burst onto the walls,

And now finally all could be seen.

As Darkness and her shadows seeped away into the cracks and in through the floorboards,

Back, Autumn presumed, into the deep, heavy earth to sleep.

It turned suddenly at the sound of a gasp,

To see the young woman had awakened with colour returned to her small cheeks.

She looked into the heart and soul of Autumn, and a deep love and happiness swept over her,

“Oh Autumn, you came”.

-Withering Muse, N