Whispey leaf, as you fall,
Onto the ground, no voice at all.
Lie upon the golden earth,
Swiftly land here until,
The gentle breeze. Blows you by,
The people walking, with an eye,
Upon your beauty, as you lay still,
Rotting as of natures will.
But once you bloomed, on the branch,
Of trees in fleeting of romance,
And reached so far, up to the moon.
Whispey leaf, into dust you will be soon.