Halcyon

Transactional Spring

A/N: Nope, it is not bad indentation. It is just a visualization, of the leaf falling, and the tree standing still and stable, unchanging. Kind of a...situationship?

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Why did you let me go?

   When I still breathed your light, 

       When your greens ran in my veins,

        When your grip held me through the night?

Little one— 
 I did not push, nor did I keep.
Time is the axe that severs;
Seasons decide what we reap.

Was I just a shadow then?   

  A scrap of decor, a sign of prosperity?       

    A jewel for your crown of green? 

      Never the love I thought it seemed?          

        Was I not enough that you had to let me go?                 

           In search and scour of another?

Enough.
You were beautiful, yes, but brief.
Beauty is a borrowed cloak,
and not an endless creek.
Newer cloaks emerge, finer with the trend,
 And, in the end,
 Circumstances are always the villainised blend.

Circumstance is a satire, love.   

 I discerned your silence,     

  Unstitch me, long before you        

    Decided to let me go,          

      Tell me, tell me, love—             

          Was I, after all this while,                     

            Never yours to keep?

Keep?
Leaves are not kept; that is the law for all.
They come, they wither, they fall.
As harrowing as that sounds,
It is that disposition that I signed up for.

Was I a regarded delight only in the spring?   

  When I was your lovely pomp and lavish portrayal?      

     And when autumn arrived,         

       Did you deem me fruitless and fit to go?           

         Was I only a spring's spark,             

            Never a home in your stiff branches?

Things change, things switch,
We were a recursive season, nothing niche.
 Those were the rules we had always agreed upon.
 Don't paint me as the one to con.
 Did you mistake a luminous glow for an eternal flame?
 Transient trade was always my game.
 My rules were clear,
 From the inception of our relationship, dear,
 We abide, we use, we trade,
 'Transactional' was always the word; I obeyed.

Rules?    Rules, we agreed upon?

       Why, why, why did you not mention them?

           That thing that we had, the blossomed spring,

                Was it just a game of fun—our endless ring?

Do not make me the renegade here,
The season ended us,
Autumn is pitiless, and we have no choice,
 I loved your green, but yellow is more my colour.

So, that's it, that's our spring?

   The blossom, the bloom, was it just a fling?

      Was it only a game you played? 

         Your endless masquerade?

I was never yours to keep—
 Neither were you mine.
 We were just a season's flame,
 The warmth you mistook for an eternal breath.

Alright,

   Fall I must, but know this—

      Your branches will always ache

         With the shape I once filled,

            And, even though you stand,  

              Mightier with yellower leaves full,

                    Without me, you are always, 

                     a

                        l          

                         o

                          n

                           e

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