Among the whispering trees where shadows blend,
The silent symphony of seasons’ end.
Leaves fall like memories, rich and profound,
As nature wraps herself in a spectral shroud.

The river’s song now a somber lullaby,
Beneath the cold and pale November sky.
Life’s fervent pulse begins to slowly wane,
In the quiet hush of autumn’s last refrain.

The wind carries tales of days long past,
Of vibrant blooms and green fields vast.
Yet in this stillness, a beauty lies,
In the gentle embrace of nature’s goodbyes.

Death walks softly through the golden wood,
Not as a foe, but as an old friend would.
For in each ending, a promise new,
Life’s eternal cycle, ever true.