Fall

She swore she would rather die if the winter comes.
With disappointment, the dandelion withered,
Lying on the grass.  
The spoiled falling leaf swirled around,
Not knowing how desperate the little plant was,
Landing by her place.
 
That made her heart dismay,
With silence, feeling so far away.  
“Remember the promise you made?”
Wondered the little plant,
Quiet still, as he usually did.
Giving or not giving an answer,
The result is not a sway.
Unconsciously, the dandelion rose up her face.  
With a trembling voice begged,
“Stay with me, and don’t leave in any way!”
 
How delicate her body is!
Thin and fragile, but full of desires,
Presenting her greedy pose.
The pampered one gave a glance,
With a proud approaching, and beautiful smiles.
So close but keep a distance.
Giving a great hope, but pause,
That’s his cruelty and innocence.
When provoking her eagerness,
How can she refrain herself from stopping reminisce?
 
Soon the winter will appear,
The chill will prevail all over,
Showing its enormous power.  
Distraught as I am,
Every part of me shrank,  
Lower and lower,
Until becoming a dust.
The winter will win me over,
Then tear down my prides into pieces.
I hope, remember your promises,
Allow me to keep my self-confidence.
 
At dawn, I found the dandelion’s grace,
Panting, with her withered body shaking,
Leaning, against the fallen leaf resting,
Struggling for remaining.
Not dying but keep breathing,
And searching for his warmth.
As I know I assure,
They tangled and twisted like lovers.