The night, the dark clouds\'re floating in the sky,
And the breeze says that winter was drawing nigh.
The last night in October. Silently. Hark,
On the ground. The whispers of the leaves in the park.
The leaves on the twigs are leading song
And repeating on the ground but it\'s going not long.
Whene\'er the gust\'s blowing the boughs, the leaves
Are falling, on the tree, a bird weeps and grieves.
The sounds of the bugs disappeared already,
By blowing on the grass, the fallen leaves eddy.
On the boughs, the colored leaves cease
To boast and wait the fate at ease.
They knew that their time already passed
In nature, not long they\'d be withered fast.
Gradually the night runs, deep and deep,
And one by one they fall in sleep.
(31st, Oct.,2023, Kinsley Lee)