The Summer's Fall

The six-chord lies abandoned,
It has played it's share,
To all the players and the musicians,
Of this summer's fair.

The arena lies empty,
The summer sun has hidden it's face,
The footsteps lie solitary with nothing to mar their shapes.

The crowd has dispersed,
Their voices fading in the wind,
The silence is all-pervading,
But for the rustle of the leaves.

Life goes in circles and so do these seasons four,
They'll be back with their chorus,
They'll be back with their tune.