As the leaves change / mailboxes for the soul

should be sleeping
but I'll sleep
thinking of you.
The days here are warm
the bees swarm
clouds vanish
after the midnight
storm.

Impress
the soft
spot in my mind
where faltering
failures fast away
drowned, the fountain
takes all our lives
to drain
the strange nameless
pain away
but I've found
its a shame
to believe that
life's a masquerade.
Call it plain
or give it a name
its all the same

How many fates
in my trembling hands
have I yet to hold?
sometimes you hide inside darkness
other times it hides in you,
wear it like a shield
or a bullet belt
its all how
you wear it
and share it
not evading the
magic and wonder
necessary to
change the martyr
imbued through or
impressed via paragon
to a prison
of the soul
no matter the
sentence or the
distance of view
its still a cold
and dirty hole
you can climb out
if you want to..
IF you want to...