May the leaves fall.
Wrestled by the crumbling earth,
Winter arises in a surge to disguise the coming of a new birth.
Plein-air collides with the nip of the strata,
As the souls of the earth find darkness to barter,
Death is easier than living.
The good news is never overshadowed by the bad,
The good news is always bad.
Inhumanity trends whilst the fabric of humility struggles to thread itself into
The slightest whole of opportunity,
Death comes easy, the harder it is to live.
A living is made through the conscious suicide of living,
To be dead is to be alive, to live is to Die.
The soul must die in silence, to allow humanity to come to Life.
As the leaves reveal their colours,
A growth springs within the womb of the South African democracy,
A new dawn arises.