Fleeting breeze of a winter morning

With the dulcet sound of the morning rain hitting on my window, I took one look at the last autumn leaf still clinging with prosaic tenacity to be impervious to the winds, only to find itself eventually displaying its docility to the works of the nature.

If I could lee that auburn leaf I would then blench off my reticent illusion of having calibrated efforts in impugning my destined path that diverged from you a long time ago.

Although, daubed appeared this love story, indubitably immaculate was the love.

Just like the leaf wafted with tribulation I fell into futile capitulation.

But now rejuvenation is inevitable for there will be that morning dew slipping away from the verdurous leaves bringing forth saccharine effervescence of the coquettish spring.

And I, tacitly await...