The glimmer within my eye,
catches the calm grey sky;
as the changing leaves fall about my unnoticed sorrows.
The chill of expiring,
only enhances the gloom.
Scents of Winter\'s presence,
surround the silent tomb;
where my body pleas for mother nature-
to prolong dying.
In sight,
an eagle gazes upon me in flight;
to rest his span,
on this withering hand;
forewarning an inescapable transformation
