Kingdom

As fragrant flowers bloom in spring's embrace,
so dance the leaves, though with autumnal grace.
Still bravely smiling, down and down they fall
into the void. O! how they did enthrall
cruel winter's fripperies! Their charm employed
without a second thought, without a qualm,
brings forth the storm that renders life destroyed
by hail, by blizzards. From the empty calm,
calamity emerges from the scars
that sully Nature's kinder, gentler face.
The tilt of planets, but a cosmic whim,
makes fun of life and playful games of death.
As to and fro Earth's axis twirls around,
the oceans splash against the shores afar.
The Maker's glass in his ethereal hands
shall rise to toast the histories of lands.
His lofty place, above our barren ground,
removed from living creatures' timid breaths,
looms as a throne unmoved by mankind's hymns
of war and peace. This world, debased and dim,
is still our home and cradle all the same.
Though we, in truth, trust not the words we sing,
we cling to hope and faith with knuckles white.
The wine of blood and tears gives us release
from our feigned virtue, setting us all free
from cries and pleas made by our better selves.
Alas, our silent God takes not the blame
for letting us be drawn to pleasures grim.
Just as the seas are stirred in Heaven's grasp,
so too are passions in the heart of Man.
And come the melting snow, we shall requite
the sinful favor through our vernal might.
Right on the cusp of cold hibernal days,
these are the thoughts I share with fallen leaves.
Though in return they offer no reply,
I grieve alone the loss of my dear friends.
How does one single tired soul perceive
the boundless scale of vast infinities?
As seconds come and go, they bring to me
the idle joys of life. Until the end.