The autumn leaves turn into dust
The living slowly dies
The moon sweeps softly into place
As the sun begins to rise
Embers of fire begin to burn
Fading into black
New lives are born to grace the world
Making up for those who lack
Birds of song drift through the air
With melody of life
Cautioning of what lies ahead
Pre-warning of the strife
The calm is broken; afternoon
The tart but sweetened air
The gathered go about their lives
With nothing of a care
The lives consumed are soon released
Letting go of hope
Causing all but pleasant thoughts
Leaving nothing left to cope
Life at its best is life at its worst
An act of calm aggression
The peace of love is the hate of war
The definition of depression.
-Emma Hein
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