The leaves die and fall
Some cling on like a rat in a dry well
Gasping against the cracks
Fighting the crushing inevitable tide
Soon there will be knew life
As the skinlings crawl forth
To find themselves in the pit
Along with their father
Amongst the dead leaves
Resorting to biological hope
Grow wings and escape this fate
Children leave their father
Dirty wings pull them towards light
Towards silken strands
Fangs that wait locked in craving
Husks fall to rest like snow
To rest upon their fallen father
Atop the dead leaves
New rains will now come
The well will no longer be dry
Leaves will return to the trees
Changes constant will comfort
