The crisp cool air,
leaves of orange and red,
almost as beautiful as the blood of the dead.

Lips pale cherry,
dry as a bone.
Body kissed by death,
under a new graveyard stone.

Like a sheath of darkness,
another person dies.
leaving their story behind closed eyes.

Quiet lay the lies,
quiet lay the good,
quiet keeps them all hidden;

even the misunderstood.