The interred are stirring, disturbed by my presence, as well as yours. The sense a newcomer, the freshness of your spring piqued times forgotten. You know of your fate, and welcomes it as well as you can.
Still I tread in the place of eternal fall, searching for the perfect spot to bury you. You stared at me with imploring eyes tinted with the yellow and red of the swirling leaves. Mesmerized as always by your enchanting gaze, I slowed my step and looked at you in all your glory enhanced by the sombre, solemn space. It's as if you , yourself, are stuck between this plane and the next, somehow taking in the most beautiful. I almost feel my soul falling unto the abyss of your eyes, and at that moment I broke my gaze. It is time.
The ground is fresh, ready for another memory to be given to its eternal embrace, to nourish another seed in this forest of amber and jade.
