When the fascinating flowers of the fall,
Swiftly toppled to rill and roll on the grounds floor,
Faint with the traversal of the old frequent winds atoll,
Ramps and reminds all the lyrical memoir,
To sage the morning mild dew fuse and free,
Laying vigorously on the damp soil and green grass,
Perfumed and springing to sort a season glee,
Offering a grace of rewind at the spraying shine,
The perch of the ballooning branches of the tree,
Unaware of the hurtfulness of the flowers' faith,
Sailing unknowingly elsewhere in the onus sky's entree,
Tossing logistics to chisel the happening prose,
Of the experiment in every perch of the saline treasury,
And softly spiked a wind to kill its dim dream to browse,
Filled with all high spirited hoping degree,
An echo of silence trans-versed in thoughts,
By the awakening, traversal of the entire day,
Destined till the evening experience of the pain,
And the curtain fall, outdo a certain call-
The bird's heart could not understand the budding flower's brain.