Fall

By Richzelle Jamon

I died for you

I blossomed for you

I grew for you

And I fall for you.

Look at me.

Do you not find my last days amusing?

Is it not breathtaking?

My colours are the only thing you see.

Did you forget it is the recollection of my life flashing?

You ignore my life and death,

Yet you frolic on my leaves.

You cheer on my blossoms.

You savour my fall.

I am only a spectacle for your camera,

Yet you weave my fate?

I bring you air, you bring despair.

A phony warmth for your aesthetic spite.

Was the sun always this deafening?

Was the wind always so disabling?

Was the moon always this silencing?

Was the sea always so haunting?

Was the dark always this blinding?

Was the ground always so starving?

It is true that you chose life because you have no choice.

Do you consider my depth as shallow as the mound I shed?

Did you ever only see me when my colours bled?

Only when the mornings are moist?

All of you, I thought, were my light.

But why do I have to struggle for a sight?

Why must one battle countless, unforgiving, degrading, priceless storms simply to gain a footing on a fight?

How merciful are you to bite and chew my essence for a trade of darkness as if it is just right?

You step on my leaves, you scratch my trunk and trample on my branches. Do you not see me live through it all?

I truly wish to leave this Earth and take my chances, But the soil has gripped my roots, my hopes are held in thrall. My existence was purely your entertainment and zest!

I am dying for you,

I am blossoming for you,

I am growing for you,

And I am falling for you,

But why did you take my warmth and give me frost? My roots stayed, yet my core was lost.

I gave you fruits and flowers,

You took them all, even my hours and powers. I wish I knew falling would take my pulse as the cost.

I always hoped that summer would not come.

I just wanted winter prolonged so I will be numb. And I hoped that spring will never bloom,

So I can stop the autumn from falling.