arial

A gentle breeze

The leaf that turned on the wind of hour

Flew away far away in a fit of anger

The moon gasped still the path went alter

The silence screamed big but the might still howered 

Now left on the ground it looked back and wondered

How the branch went crick on that gentle mother nature 

The cause wasn\'t real the fall wasn\'t inevitable 

But the way we preceived it brought us all  the catastrophe