The Passing of Seasons

He walks ever in shadow yet unaware,
Hardly mindful of the passing of life’s seasons
Flowing through Spring into Summer,
And Summer into Autumn.

When the leaves fall
And the spectre of life
Looms over his consciousness,
He realizes that he is not a phoenix.

Which will relive its life
Continuously
Rising from the flames,
The flames of their death.

But to be a mortal
To never recapture the magic of youth
To live with his mistakes,
And have no second chance.