Leaves tumble to the ground,
As if surrendering.
They fall softly,
Scarcely louder than silence.
As they drift the wind decides where to take them,
It whistles and blows,
Separating clusters.
Now there is a carpet of leaves,
Laid out especially
for her.
She finds delight as they crunch under her naked feet.
Destruction pleases her.
The leaves that were once high above everything else
Are now crushed
Beneath her.
She indulges herself in the knowledge that she has reduced the highest to
Nothing.