Autumn Leaves Aflame

The autumn leaves are changing,
to hues of red, orange and gold,
while the smell of woodbine lingers,
strong and deliciously bold.

The autumn leaves are falling,
into a state of dormant deterioration,
as they fall to pieces and await,
in the constant flux of disintegration.

And as they lie fallow, forsaken,
in a fossilized state of dilapidation,
upon a barren land of perdition,
born of ruinous desolation.

They recede and decay in
melancholy prostration,
as they await their fate,
of complete destruction.

When suddenly in random abandon,
an ember of trepidation,
lays amongst the abandoned,
resounding in its cry of sullen desperation.

As it ebbs adrift upon the flow
of solitary separation,
and seeks the forlorn fallen,
to reach the mantle of revitalization.

And bursts into flames
of inferno's ruination,
and bear down upon despondency,
in the form of annihilation.

The promise of the blaze,
of brimstone and deprecation,
cast down upon the land,
that of eclipse and obscuration.

The fires burn deep,
without any form of control,
leaving in its wake a barren land
bound to a sorrow filled toll.