I sit down in the cold of the evening. I lie back in the chair and am engulfed in the spearing iciness of the soft blowing of the breeze. I am alone. The loneliness is shown through the empty chairs that sit around me. All gray and all alone. The dull color only souring my mood more, forcing this lonely feeling deeper into my mind until I sink in pure depression. I close my watered down eyes and listen to the whistling of the wind and the rustling of the leaves as they shake on their frail, dying branches. Some fall and some stay. Seperated till the others fall with them. They will all fall. In time, we all fall. We are all dying, slowly, as the seasons change, we grow older and blood runs colder in our veins as we watch the ones around us disappear and slowly our dull, grey chairs empty as if no one was there with you at all. I open my eyes and see birds fly through the trees. They are in pairs and I look over to my side to find no one. I sigh and close my eye once more. The wind carries the smell of the lilacs past my nose. I smell them. The scent makes me forget my loneliness for a moment. The inviting warmth of a spring smell, when life is warmer and the loneliness is shaded under lively leaves on strong, living branches. My eyes open once more. I am looking up. Surrounded by a protective shield of twisted and mangled death of branches as the leaves continue to fall. t is now quiet outside. No cars pass. No birds fly. Only the soft whistling of the wind as it picks up once more. I enjoy the silence, sometimes it is all I want.
