Morning

A switch in the gentle stride,
Wilted leaves kissing the past goodbye;
Among the mortals we reside,
My love from beyond;
‘Twas during the crisp autumn morn,
That hope was born.
Feverishly waiting in the smoldering smog,
Your gaze is a sight I yearn for.
As we fall, past the loneliness that swirl our night,
Let our lips touch as we forge our twilight.
Sheets of wonder and doubt lay twirled between us,
and yet, hold me tight as we plunge past the unwritten plight.