Shattered Leaves

They whisper a story, in such a soft voice,
You have to stay still and quiet to hear them, they give you no other choice.

Their voices carried, made stronger by the wind,
Their story of a heart no more on the mend.

Of a lady so strong so proud,
But above her head hung a sad cloud.

Her hair was spun like spun brown silk,
Her skin like the whitest of milk.

She seemed so happy, so free,
But in her eyes held another story.

This is the story the leaves voice tell,
About her living in this place some call hell.

Her chocolate eyes reddened by tears,
Her tries to chase away the years.

She was never the perfect one for him,
No matter how much she tried he never saw her as slim.

For this she was punished, day in and day out,
Sometimes for a reason she knew nothing about.

Never did she hurt the people and things around her,
And her voice so sad was like a hunters lure.

The wind carries her its sympathy,
For it knows that soon will fall a tragedy.

The leaves gently sway her deeper into the wood,
But like a tales, after a while it no longer could.

There he stood at enterance of their home,
A disturbing presence to all and comfort to none.

In his hand glinted the barrel of a gun,
A simple bang!, her only witness the sun.

There she lay dying slowly on shattered leaves of gold,
For as they took her it was the tale they told.

Whenever the wind cries on a full moon night,
Listen closely, for you'll hear something not heard in the light.

A woeful sound that'll send shivers up your spine,
A quiet crying will be the only sign.

It will spin you and trap you in her web,
With all things secrets she left unsaid.

And so will remain the secret of the shattered leaves,
Locked tightly away like swords in their sheathes.