There I lay, a drying yellow leaf,
What happened, crushed my belief,
The tree had given me birth,
And shook in the festive mirth,
It had created me, nourished me,
It had nurtured me, flourished me,
And my siblings accompanied me,
And always I felt they need me,
But my provider had betrayed me,
After just half a days life, it slayed me,
While I lay cursing my patriarch,
My mind went through a spiritual march,
Isn't this the cycle of nature,
You have an arrival, you have a departure,
And does it matter how long one lives?
Or what one does, what one gives?
It matters not the span in which you are alive,
But what you have done while you thrive,
By my aroma, nature is appreciated by a blind,
And my beauty had comforted the troubled mind,
I gave hope to wight's depress,
I ornament nature's dress,
I supplement hungry birds and beast,
My siblings form delicious feast,
I made the air convenient for breath,
I form the forest, I form the heath,
So, I had accomplished my purpose,
And I take back all the curse,
I don't curse my originator's knife,
For now I know the meaning of life.
 


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    Azli

    Is a third year electrical engineering student at Ryerson University.