Blade

The golden autumn leaves fall like hammer blows

Shaping the molten dreams of summer

They are quenched in the icy winter winds

Brittled they crack in the hope of spring

Melted down by the summer sun

Hammered home by orange strikes of fall

Tempered in the snow

Our dreams are forged into reality

Sharpened by the seasons 

The razor's edge bleeds the boredom and strife

Fighting the world, our dreams are our knife.