Spring Cleaning is for those allied with the blinding,
intolerant sun
Who believe in angels and pixie dust
and that greeting cards can cure depression

We, who are Autumnborn,
with burnt orange blood sneaking through our craggy veins,
we succumb to the the Autumnal Purge
in that moment when the trees start to choke
and the winds start to shiver
then we begin,
and kill off clutter,
and murder waste as it slumbers,
in a somber frenzy of bloodless sacrifice,
not in defiance of Death
or as affront to Entropy

But in praise of Them.


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