It's fall in the city,
And leaves race paper like
Competition is a means of death,
A beautifully orchestrated game
As stars compete for brilliance
On this clear night.

And I think who wins
Is a matter of chance.

Being alone has never
Hindered the beauty
Of a sunset over a meadow,
Visible by standing in the tree-line
On top of a gently rolling hill.

Or life.

And so I live.
Alone, yet married
To the aesthetics of one eye,
Instead of two.

I caught luck in my left hand,
And held a fire in my heart.

It's a starless night,
And I'm a window away,
This glass has never felt so thick.

Your stare traverses galaxies,
But it can't touch vernacular,
Only ensure mysteries.

Strangely endearing,
I let luck free.
Wished on another star,
Fire flied free.