That sinister Autumn air, it is a force to be reckoned with. It crashes hard into your lungs forcing strangled screams and the pressure bursts your ear drums in ****** fury. This is a time for lonesome walks towards winters deadly grip. May your rage warm your blood as you huddle against the darkness seeking your forgotten warmth.
Crystals fall and you forget their beauty as you are consumed by useless and petty anger.
You stand in the blizzard of freezing winds and your own apathy and you realize you are here alone. There is no one to blame but yourself. So you run. To what you are uncertain. Perhaps back to a home that has forgotten you, or perhaps to another street lamp to record your mortal remains.