Leaves...

Plenty of leaves,
ripped and dried.
inept to express,
yet, it tried.
And when they rot,
nicking, what they have till date,
kills that part, fresh and green
as neither it fought nor defied.

Sometime...

Sometime, eyes do stop,
before even you see that right.
a sense of joy feels your heart,
out your soul, from all the plight.

Sometime, legs do retreat,
before even that war begins.
you only see the loss it stores,
and it doesn't matter, whoever wins.

Sometime, dreams do shatter,
before even you go to sleep.
and you realize, you aren't sleepy at all.
So here you are, alive again,
ready to take that giant leap.