The Mocking Leaves

Falling....
   Falling....
      Falling....
Green yet red,
   Life combined with dying.
Soon death
   Will fall from the sky,
      Blanketing the life
         Humans are programmed
            To see.

The leaves fall
   In a semblance of that blanket.
Metaphoric death
   Disguised as life
      With warm breezes
         And blue skies.

No one seems to notice
   The guise of life.
They see what they want to see,
   I suppose.
They see autumn leaves
   As beautiful.
Is death beautiful?

My heart is dying,
   Falling to the ground
      In a drifting, lazy way.
The leaves mimic me,
   Mock me,
      Fall beside me
         As siblings of Nature.
Destroyed by the same.

Perhaps there is beauty in death.
Some say there is something beyond it.
Leaves regrow.
Snow melts.
These must be professionals talking
   Or veterans.
Should I trust?
Who do the leaves trust?

I will follow the leaves
   And wait for spring,
      But until it comes
         I will continue to fall.