As The Seasons Turn

By: Christelle Posted on: October 31, 2011

The yellowed stalks are stark
And pale beneath the moon
The harvest day is past -
The feasting begins soon.

The bitter Ithmian woods
Grow worse as cold sets in.
But inside Hashan's walls
Warm festivals begin.

In their secret places,
The Serpentlords' delight
Is found in pilfered goods
Acquired through clever sleight.

The Merchants need not thieves,
For their great bounty comes
They wisely use their gold
To bolster profit sums.

The humble Lotus Sect
Give their thanks in their way:
By training, by learning
Do these monks pass the day.

The Spirit Walkers, too
Have gratitude to give.
From inside their Fortress
As their rites turn festive.

And so the season blooms,
And with each game-bird slain,
Along with fallen leaves,
Does Death claim life again.