Fallen Leaves Of Life; My Time, My Soul

• Tehgan Brink, Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2013

Ever-changing shadows huddle in the mist
a subject of the new sickness that has swept the country side.

A touch of hate, a stinging death kiss
a figure moved away with evening's bliss.
In his hand held a box emitting an eerie orange glow,
in this box; held a soul, a bright and beautiful soul.
He goes off to compose- a soul with the leaf.
The soul forever this leaf will keep.

When the blue moon rises high, many men will die- two taps on the left, a cut on the right. To obtain your soul the shadows will rise. A prophecy of doom; all life becomes gloom.

Still, while in darkness candles can be held high. Just as quickly can they be contained and slowly left to die. Lurking in the shadows, many threats lie. A touch of love, hatred and fate; can leave our world spinning and lying in wait.

When time stands still, shadows will approach for their kill. To savour the flavour the soul may bring. A touch of happiness, dread or fulfillment- from past to present this shall be mankind's punishment.

All my leaves will someday fall; than all is lost, never to be restored. All souls taken; their bodies are sprawled. Souls kept in their prison forever.
Dread creeping inside; torture for all

Again the shadows will rise from the dead.
Full of power- leaving nothing for the rest.