Sweet scents of coloured leaves, they cling to your nose like a familiar aroma from home.

Embrace the change of fall. The green leaves to red, the once alive to dead, and the coldness onto earth.

Penetrating, is the soul of fall. For it makes you wish to be alive, to cling onto sweet spices and warm blankets like a fiery hearth.

Temperate, it is not. Like a storm, with its shifting winds of current, so too, is this shifting current.

Emerald fields fade into shadows of rust and gold, bowing down to the amber sun that slips away too soon, like a name too faint to remember.

Mention its name, and it will freeze and shiver, stalking its prey forever deterrent.

But with the dying of the alive, the end of a start, and the coldness at heart, there is still the promise of new.

Ever bearing, ever changing, this season will amend you.

Remember, though, most of all. The warm embrace of a loved one, the pumpkins littering the field like gold dust, and the promise of something to come in all its splendor.

Because without the hope of new beginnings, the world will always beg for death, in the month of September.