Once in a While

Fall windows fade like old stained glass, when colours drain in black and white for winter days.
This sickness flies by my head on most days, but once in a while I let it pull me away.
Where shimmer is as silver does.
Where home wasn't a house but it was the sense of changing like moths.
At a stained glass window comes weathers fade.
Pull me away.
But I've seen worse.
Let in bloom, repeat it in rebirth.
And let live, once in a while.