The crunch of my soles against the fallen leaves mirrored that of the crisp smoke infiltrating my raw lungs, a trembling hand thawing from the flame rippling against the chipped paint upon my fingers. So many people yet it’s so still and quiet, the ample notes from the mystery of love diffusing through the mid autumnal breeze. Rotting orange carcusses spewed across the floor, their seedy insides ruffled on the pavement caressing the torn sweet wrappers littered from infantile hands, lost amongst the squashed gum clinging to the cobbles. The sun burns my eyes, they're still tender from last nights whimpers softened by the silence of the city, but I haven't felt the warmth or seen the bright sphere of happiness I almost forget how blinding it can be. Discarded decor and fading colour from the branches of life rooted into my core, the autumunal moon's heavy presence bears above; reflecting the claminess of the fall equinox braised upon my brow. Although I am contingent, the ever changing scenery in this snow-globe life remains consistent, the murky sepia paths forged before me slowly drain to match the pale glow of the crisp flakes starting to fall.