In the rustles and crackles of autumn leaves,
With the chill of early morning breezes;
And in a hustle and bustle of our squabble;
You left my heart with bruises,
Like an autumn tree, bare and lonely with no babble.
In this lonesome quagmire state,
Did the space in my heart arouse?
That our fated twosome must not negate;
Nor should there be any longer pause,
For failure to rejuvenate leaves bald and barren tree.
Oh! Spring, therefore it comes with fresh buds of promises
To heal the wounds and set those captive hearts free.
Fall back to my arms, my love come with the spring,
And together we’ll put the cradle of our romance to swing.

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