Autumn within

Tell these leaves that unlike you I never see the spring. I never see the greenery. I never see the life. The autumn is in my veins. The destruction is within me. These colorful flowers and green leaves cannot tell you what the autumn is all about. Ask me and I will tell you the reality of autumn: the autumn creates a hole within you---a hole of separation. The autumn has destroyed me--the autumn of separation—the separation from the spring. Ask me how is it to crave for spring? Ask me what the longing for the spring is?

They saw the autumn and now they are in full bloom. But, I have lived through the autumn, the harshness and how it peels off my skin. Don’t ask these leave, ask me and I will tell you how my dry skin made sounds when crushed. Don’t tell me about the fragrance of these flowers: the fragrance of autumn has made me forget all other wonderful fragrances in the world--the fragrance of pain, harshness, agony, separation and you. The last one ‘you’ is suited to make me forget everything.  Don’t tell me about the chirping of birds. The sound of my dry veins, craving for blood, made every sound meaningless.

There is autumn within me---a decades old autumn and what lies outside is the reflection of what is inside.

Autumn, autumn and autumn: with no sign of the spring to come.