This is what it feels like at the end of forever. I never thought it would ever come. It really did seem like the leaves wsould just keep on falling from the trees, and eternal autumn of beauty. Either we were liars, forever came too soon. I was sure that we weren't lying. Instead, I find myself with slightly damp shoes, grasping the wet bark of the a tree trunk, looking up at the stark branches that fill the entire sky, looking for a single leaf whiich might have not yet fallen. But they have all fallen. The threat of winter alone was enough to make them fall. The chilled wind ensured that they fell. Still I ache to be surrounded by them, by their colors.

They are not leaves anymore, these things which paper the ground, these muted brown sheaves, pages of books never read, never understood. They decompose and disgourge their secrets to the unsympathetic soil.

 

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