Leaves fall to a silent grave
Unfitting of the life they gave.  
The winter air does coax them free
To fulfill an inevitable destiny.
A bittersweet plunge they brave.
Off the leaves fall.

But boughs endeavour to deprave—
Fleeting lives they try to save.
In vain they fight what’s meant to be;
Maternal limbs concede in agony.
For winter’s coming they cannot stave
Off. The leaves fall.

Dressed for their fall, farewell they wave
In a glorious cross over to the grave.
Blazing foliage succumb to mortality,
Death does spare their dignity.
With reverence Fall’s hues we crave—
Off the leaves fall.