Gusto
Leaves waltz with the wind one last time before
foreshadowing winter's white cloaking storm.
The gust springs a dance as a solstice summer
sun does enhance May's spark of thunder.
Everyone does die alone,
but I wouldn't mind getting gone
while someone sits by my side.
Just a substance, you say.
Them chemicals, today...
But when entrails are all
that remain then start solving
science's next resolve.
But what has revolution
left queued for solution?
And where's the paradigm
shiftin'side in this pairing rhyme?
There ain't none, obsolete,
constraint, done, it's complete.
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