On the Autumn air,
Where witches play,
I watched a leaf,
Fall down one day.
Carelessly careening,
Towards the ground,
It then hit full force,
But made no sound.
I was then distracted,
By the sight,
Of the dying sun,
And its golden light.
And as the sun,
Laid down to rest,
I think the world,
Looked its best.
