A falling leaf drifted among'st  many like herself,
wondering why the others were still as green as supple,
Why the others were held proudly in the breeze,
While she was abandoned, to die and crease,

She pondered upon the rest with haste with greed,
while the thorn tore her apart with a blatant tease,

She could not even turn around to the cursed thorn,
She could not even cry out through the swirling storm,

Just when she was about to succumb to the apathy of fate,
Just when she was to let go the hanging threads of fate,

Did a breeze flew her under the open sky,
Away from the shadows, far away from her cry,

Under the light of freedom, upon the dust of times play,
On the cold black rocks, upon the waterfall's crystal spray,

She found back hope with passing wind and drizzling rain,
She found back her life, just after she was lead by her pain.