Sparkatale

The ebony leafs are falling 
Slowly and gracefully 

See how they spin and dangle in the air 
Their scent burns my nose 

They are chilling to the touch 
They tell me not touch them 

But they are so pretty, the ebony leaves 
And comes back, more of them 

Come and see how many of them fall! 

I want to take one and keep it in my collecting book. 

It is soft to the touch, like silk from the town across the river 

Its scent burns my nose 
I hide it in my book so no one can find it and take it from me.

I feel sick 

-Anonymous,  Mar 28 2nd Age