The cold sets in, turning green to pale; the essence of being to browns and oranges. One leaf falls and then another, every dead leaf, carried away by the wind. Away from everything, away from the world as it had been perceived.  Rolling down the street, under the cars, into the gutters, yards, a few might find themselves stuffed into black trash bags. The darkness engulfs them, the earth destroys the matter that made up it all, and everything returns back to the dirt.

   There is only so much one can do when the forest is already half burnt to the ground. Casualties, victims. Victims of war, total war. Tearing hearts and minds apart.

From the ashes, vibrant green, new life will poke its way out.

            Just give it time.