Autumn is glorious, a fierce warrior. Flaming red hair and dark, rough oak skin was her. Sunlight glistening in her orange eyes, eyes as orange as the fruit made her glow. She is bruised with yellow and green, but those would soon vanish. The brutal opponent, white and gray, would conquer her. She would be left bare, bald and naked and cold. The hearth in her heart grows frigid as the Winter warrior kisses her, over and over again, until she disappears, ready to come back when the time comes. Winter is victorious.
I HAVE MOVED!
3 years ago