‘Twas Spring.

Thou planted seeds

Within my tender heart,

A garden of flowers did bloom

With love…

Summer.

Blazing passion 

Ignited intense sparks,

Like a moth doth to flame I was

Consumed…

Autumn.

Like the harsh wind

Thou lashed mercilessly, 

To watch me crumble piece by piece

And fall…

Winter.

I just lay numb,

Iced beneath layers deep,

My smile concealed the gnawing pain,

From all…

Love hurts.

My hopeless mind

Still dwells in memories, 

The sands of time fail to erase

the past…

Note: This was one of the winning piems in Poattic-8 held by Artoonsinn.

It has been written in the crown cinquain style. Every stanza has 5 lines in the syllable count 2,4,6,8,2.