'Tis beauty is, glory after the fall,
A soul that swam in sin now with the sun,
At war with Autumn's act, abused and all,
By love that left unto another one.
Leaves died and fell unto the heart of grass,
Burning thine soul and gifted chlorophyll.
Lovely a leaf that lied with lust at last,
Causing a fever that ones earth would feel.
Glory that God hath lifted seasons change,
To birth the life of breath into a tree.
As love would leave, new leaves would grow with-in,
Of beauty blossoming beyond debri.
A broken heart is like a fallen leaf,
Yet night born from unloved light rise from grief.