Autumn

The leaves have started to fall;
  it's ingrained into my mind,
  with thoughts of the beautiful yellows,
  oranges, and reds; then,
  the phantom who say's, "it's all
  created by God!".
The trees around me do not chrysalis into
  these beauties of colour,
  how I miss it's splendour;
  he is laughing:
  how I forget our falls nature... 

The end

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