The FeelingSeason of blues

Its the season of blues,
I heard the wind say,
As it swirled up the dust,
And tugged at the drying leaves,
End of stay on the branch,
As now is the season of gloom,
The coming of the end,
Of all we see around

There will be new dawns,
New seasons,
Spring and autumns,
But people forget ,
Those will be another year,
Another time,
But the present would have long,
Been vanquished to dust.

In the lonely season of blues,
Everyone survives in isolation,
Loneliness in a crowd,
Maladies with no cures,
There is a numbing within,
A disconnect with the world,
Feelings,
Bottled up emotions

Feelings that are not felt,
Emotions seemingly absent,
Near yet so far,
There is no grief,
No tears, no cries,
In this season of the Blues,
Yet a weight hangs,
All around,
Everywhere