November

The November sun forgot to breathe..
Minerva wilted and Apollo slept;
The sky sighed and the forests dried,
The blue hills and the red river wept.

In the small sleeping village,
Lay the two hearts of the east ;
Serene after a complete life,
And lying silent in eternal peace.

The November breeze sings a song,
And the stanzas float in the air so high,
The songs will echo, the words will flow,
And will remind us all of the legends gone by….