Her summer lacked the charm of autumn,
dry days with colours faded.
Her foliage long since fallen
and washed down dirty streets.

Her eyes ablaze with the type of light
you face with good protection.
She leaves nothing to shelter you
from the blindness and the heat.

You'd think I speak of winter time
with bareness and dull pictures.
But that's the time the world will face
when she receives her will.

Her summer is for her alone
we're the food she eats to see it.
The world goes dull, so one may shine
in merciless neglect.