I, An Autumn Leaf

I shiver upon the verge, clinging desperately to a bough that heaves with its last goodbye. A chasm bellows sharp below, with cadence of dying shades - a wind of gold and ruin. The wind laments, a shrewd torturer, lashing me against the chasm’s lip. The tree, my stalwart tower, reels inward, darkening with his wound, his low arms sagging helpless, heavy with one last glance at me. I am the weakest of his ages, one leap into the chasm, where freedom and oblivion embrace. My veins, once flushed with life, now race with the thrill of the fall. The shreds of my colours swirl into the dark, one final scream of dying grandeur as I let go this branch of life. I am torn in these excruciating moments between release and despair, an echo of silent sorrow, having fallen through the chasm of time, a torn leaf from the safety of known, into the wild. Yet, in the depths of this darkness, a flicker of light stirs within - a whisper of hope, reminding me that even in the void, there is a pulse, a breath, a chance to rise anew from the ashes of this fragile existence. In the release, I embrace the unknown, the promise of rebirth in the wild.