Something not changed, changed by the autmn light.
Spring never sprung as wetlands become desolate sanctuaries for the night.
Summer, what summer?
Seniority, fraternity, fractionalization and the like.
Seems like nothing changes in the moon light.

Thumbs up and fingers down.
Tomorrow brings different issues that we never see coming until they are upon us.
Tonight, the night in general, has o feelings but for the lust of blood.
Tongues lash at the open coke bottle, leaving you wondering, "Why coke?"
Tinker-bell had nothing on me.

Ultra-violet rays in the sky.
Ultimate destruction that comes from it to us, sharing its waste.
Under the deep seductive eclipse of nihilo.
Umbrellas that tell you which way to go.
Undecided as to listen or not.