Summers' End

Written by: John Summers

The waning days of summer
are the saddest of the year,
nature wears a solemn face
as dying time draws near.

One by one the flowers fade
as life slows to a crawl, 
nature seems to sense its fate
when summer turns to fall.

How I wish it wasn't so,
but summer cannot last,
fall is racing close behind
in front of winter's blast.

Our lives are like the seasons,
death comes to one and all,
what will then become of me
when summer turns to fall.