Autumn's End
The morning brought with it an amber sunrise.
The cold frosted earth and fallen leaves crackled underfoot like so many pieces of shattered glass, awash with the colours of liquid gold, ruby and topaz.
The Icy bite of the wind threatening the inevitable return of the coming winter and the hardships that would arise with it.
Autumn was at its end.
Soon the last leaf would fall and the trees would be left reaching their skeletal branches towards an empty grey abyss.
A seasonal poem by Furrion
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