Dry leaves

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Dry leaves writhe in pain,
As I walk on it relentlessly;
narrating a saga of gory tale,
About colours, youth and vibrancy;
Stuck helplessly on the wet ground,
Rotten, torn, fatigued, defeated,
And devoid of any exotic colours,
Awaits its end by mingling in soil;
Enrichs the soil with its minerals,
And feeds the roots of its originator;
Awaits its rebirth till cuckoo sings,
Till then it hangs between
Despondency and hope…….

—– Binzy

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