attachment and
disillusionment
sometimes forever
is sacred and foul
remembered
but not appreciated
fallen and
released
like ripe fruit
rotting on the vine
even summer gardens
sometimes spoil
as sour beasts
taste dismay
and accept defeat
if only all this
melancholy
was just a
temporary
state of affairs
it’s alright though
because time hardens
even the softest of hearts
and worn beasts
will always refuse to submit