The trees shed their leaves.
Gracefully they fall.
Dying.
Dying.
Returning to the earth.
With autumn comes death.
And beauty.
Death and beauty.
Is there beauty even in death?
Death to self.
Death to every way in me that has brought grief.
Death which ends the struggle.
Between dark and light.
Between wrong and right.
With autumn comes death.
And beauty.
Breathtaking beauty.
And death.
Death to self.
Bringing life.
And freedom.
Bringing the promise...
of Spring.