The Coming of Winter.

The leaves change colour these days.
Removing their former life and
Throwing themselves into the wind.
Cast aside in death by May.

The wind chills as temperature drops.
Cold and hard as stone and
Lacking in any compassion at all.
The warmth of life suddenly stops.

What did you possibly have to gain?
You tore my heart out and
Threw it amongst the dead leaves.
Was it your plan to inflict such pain?

The dull throbbing has thinned.
My heart lies still on its bed of decaying flora
But you concern me no more.
I've cast your memory to the wind.

Like a lonesome autumn leaf.
May you starve with the coming winter