The fall within

No matter the season, no matter the sky, If the mind turns cold, even fall will die. The leaves may glow in golden fire, Yet inside me burns no desire. I see the autumn, yet feel the freeze, A winter whisper beneath the trees. I made a mistake I cannot name, And every breath repeats the shame. I feel so wrong, so far, so small, No greater good could rise from this fall. It’s not the season that fades, but me— Drifting down, silently, endlessly. The darkness hums where words can’t go, Isolation’s chill, a quiet snow. And though I know I should survive, It feels easier not to be alive.