Love is strange,
Can be bold,
Can be old.

Can be between two,
Can be rotten through and through.

Can break laws set up from the dawn of time,
Can bring into the darkest of the dark some light.
Can turn violet loneliness into something bright.

Love is strange,
Can be small,
Can be tall.

Can be between men,
Can be lustrous, Can bend.

Can break barriers between worlds or create some,
Can make one drunker than drinking straight ***.

Can be between the light, the fair daughter of the field,
Can be with flowers in her hair,
And the dark, the sly son on the throne of the killed.

Follow closely, follow quickly, follow quiet as a mouse,
Will creep in during flower picking, or while cleaning the house,
Hides in the heart beneath nightgown, button up, or blouse.

Love is powerful,
Can be igniting,
Can be frightening.

Can be between anyone,
Can be lost sometimes, and be for no one.

Can make people do stupid things, like spirit away his lover,
Can create both good and bad between one another.

Can be between wealth and simplicity,
Can be between ****** and purity,
And all that they possess, and all that they signify.
Can cause one to fall, can cause one to fly,

Can cause a good hello,
Can prompt a sad goodbye.

Can freeze the world, **** the crops we work to grow,
Can heat it once more, can be warmth on its own.

Love is a tie,
Can bind together,
Can make better,
Can be more valuable than treasure.

Can be soft and sound and velvet and kind,
Can pause time, can make it rewind,
Can learn, can teach,
Be the rose left on the beach,
Can be the woman, can be the man,
Can be the cold touch of death’s hand.

Bright fall leaves hold branches of thick fall trees,
They hug them tight against the brisk fall breeze.

None fall to the road, they leave it clear,
And thank you for that, for I shall pass here,

And onwards and forwards, I will wander on,
Farther and farther, it is time to be getting gone,

For this road stretches on through tunnels of fall leaves,
Over hills and under skies, between walls of fall trees.

Where it ends, I do not know,
But that is where I intend to go,

Here, it is fall with its leaves and its trees,
But onwards march and what shall be seen?

Will there be beaches of bright white sand?
Or dark black sand? Or another brand?

Where the fall leaves point lies my compass needle,
And just behind I, though, sometimes feet are feeble,

But I suppose fall trees will give strength where I lack.
Is that not the purpose of their bark at my back?

But while their color is strong, fall leaves are feeble as feet,
And will be swept away by storm someday, swept by winter breeze,

And the dead winter leaves will make cold winter trees,
So cold that winter branches will freeze.

And with branches, too, shall I?
When the ice freezes fast, shall I?

And shall I follow the leaves that disperse with the season?
Or shall I settle down? I have every reason.

There are tests that need taking, diagrams need gluing,
Study cards need making, work that needs doing,

Winter...will that be it, with schooldays I must attend?

Does my road stop running around in loops and bends?

...So, is this where my adventure ends?

Will my adventure be swept with fall leaves in winter winds?

No, I let it not, as fall is here and time is great,
So I won’t let myself think of winter hate,

There is good that comes with changing seasons, too,
And every wanderer must rest sometimes, it’s true.

But for now I will run, like the brisk fall breeze,
And wind up somewhere new by the winter freeze.

(Maybe, just maybe, far enough away,
That I’m not there on that first school day).

The sky hides behind the bushy fall trees, invitingly,
But sits so softly and asks so quietly,

So the road is serenely empty, open for me,
So I will go and see what I shall see.

And if you like...maybe…
You could come with me?

How fleeting are we as people?
Asked to give ourselves up,
For the greater good
For the King’s greater good

How fleeting we live as people,
Bones like feathers,
Blood like my enemy’s
Blood like my brother’s

A strong will can be mistaken for teenage rebellion,
A strong will can be bent only after death
And until death do strong and will part
Until death do us part

How fleeting the mind of a madman,
The heart of the bravest kitten
Bathed in brother’s blood
Bathed in Human blood

As those who exist cease to,
Let us hope that we are free to,
And that we are free, too

The sunset throws the people into silhouette,
The rolling hills into sharp relief against themselves.
It romanticizes the world,
Like for once there is such a thing as freedom.

Age watches the clock and the calendar at end of day,
Youth watches the setting sun.
Dreams can be so fleeting after all,
And time so indelicate.

Long live the youth in a world of disarray.
Long live dreams in a world of age.

Age searches for the meaning of life,
Youth finds life in the meaning,
Why else would we run away for but a single day?

The sunset paints brown grass gold.
Time paints gold moments brown.
The ocean sits behind the trees
But long ago it sat in the pockmarked sky
And fell,
Like sand to the bottom of the hourglass,
The House of Usher.
Long live that aging ocean,
Long live that youth in the sky,
Bright blue-white pinprick footprints
Left behind in existential black.
Long live the never ending sky,
The forever ending sea.

Naught but a memory of a dream now,
Petals of light catch on rivers of roads,
And we remember it like pirates do the ocean -
Free, formidable, fierce, forever.

Age throws memory into silhouette,
Light shines photographs into spots of glare.
Youth romanticizes the world,
Like once upon a time,
We were free.

I see the sky crack open
And try to paint it closed with starlight,

But lo and behold it does not wish
To mend itself tonight,

And as it falls so gracefully,
I watch the sea lap at the city's ticklish toes.

Serene as ever, but still deep with mischief,
The sea plays with the city until it is bright with light

Of laughter and joy
Until it decides if it should sleep this night.

Sonewhere in the distance sits something,
What? Nobody knows,

But it sits there in waiting,
Like a sanguine sentinel, somehow hopeful.

And mark my words,
The cracking sky opens, opals

Pouring from an endless beyond
Just to shake hands with a never ending sea.
It is how the sky reaches out to the sea:

For once, just once,
I wish it would reach for me.