Lies of Autumn

As the leaves fall yellowing like aged paper,

thoughts turn acrid and curl like cigarette smoke

rising from a butt ground out on my arm.

Step into this decay and experience dissolution.

Crucified on a plank of cruelty,

crucified on a plank of apathy

to sleep the winter away.

Immobile for the cold duration.

Huddled in isolation,

to sleep the winter away.