Vacancy

O the reckless leaves

How they fall upon;

Devoid of the thunders

Or the lightning

That dawns the night.

But a lot like the liberation of a thousand clouds

Unseizing their sorrow in silence.

"Our laments be thy souvenir!"

The road finds a blanket to cover its isolation

The trees lay unwanted and bare

And I lose shelter.

Love is but a seasonal affair.

You live in all the letters you envelop and seal

You die in the same when they're returned to you

Returned in the best of all the shapes undefined.

You declare the self a vacancy

You then restrict its fulfillment.