Who know that,
Spending time with you.
In this Crimson Decay,
Would be so great?
Not stuck behind a screen,
Surrounded by Auburn Misery.
Longing to be free,
To hold and touch you whenever I please.
Now over three months have passed,
And I’ve been able to share this all with you at last.
Sharing a season with you,
Known for its Scarlet Death.
Is now brought alive with you,
With each share of a breath.
Now the season is changing,
To something bitter and cold.
And there’s no place I’d rather be,
During this Poinsettia Winter.
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