Drunk on old fashions, the wind takes a breath

And exhales all his anger through golden

Red leaves, falling to her pathetic wreath;

Hands bleached like old Bluebeard's, he's stuck within

Trunk buried in Earth, she turns her pink cheek

Standing her ground, immasculating his

Inability to change how he speaks.

Codependence controls their ambience

Stripped of her plentiful Autumn-cherries

One last sakura leaf falls to fresh snow

The absence of her white phantom carries

Until his pressure builds, nowhere to go

Still, they refuse to deny their tenderness

Seasons always pass in light and darkness.