DigitalReins

Can you read meaning into a fallen leaf? To say he yearned to leave his home? To say he tried to fly? To say his actions were too strong, that his impulses let him die? Or was he wary, maybe forlorn? Tired of his home? His life had mattered naught to him? Was it time that he let go? Or was it that he fell so that a bud could burst anew? Or were there too many leaves and he among the chosen few to die so that others might live? I do not know, nor can I ask.

A thousand tortures sang a tune of hate and greed of death and need. The silent of the bunch was love. It used no song yet all along the others knew is as the one that acted as their master. It gave the greed the need to have all things to it belong. It birthed the hate that through the pain of loss had risen strong. Love is the power and the pain, the rainbow but also the rain. Love is a tear for joy and loss. Love is all.