A leaf
It falls, swaying beneath the Autumn skies.
Resting against the ground it unwillingly lies.
What is a leaf that falls, to a man's last breath?
For everything that lives, must soon meet death.
Where before it flourished, amongst life it sustained.
Till a season has passed, to which life must change.
His vibrant green that all will rejoice.
To brown it decays, without a single choice.
Yet the fall we are freed from all uncertainty.
For a man knows his truth, during this final melody.
It sways to-and-fro, from his branch to his roots.
His mind repeats, memories, infinate in loop.
A leaf, it falls. A last breath he draws.
What was then is gone, what is to come is not known.
But the fall is now, present, yet too soon.
To the leaf that falls, a new life will bloom.