Will go where it belongs!

A Grey but ecstatic autumn leaf, leaves a Gulmohar tree and flies away.
Leaving a orange horizon far behind, at its peak in the month of May.

Painted in hues of Dorian Grey, to find a color new
Catches the rhythm of the wind, discovering the true meaning of true

Drowned in fathoms few, blown a few miles
The will undeterred, red skies or broken tiles

It finds it's way to the  green eyes and white palms of a dying man
Its beauty finds a mirror, amongst a diary covered in leather tanned

Endless winters it endured, endless perils were left behind
The leaf became a bookmark, to the vagaries of an old man's mind

Hence came the time, a black Toga with an iron sickle
Life is the juice of nature, it stays for a while and then it trickles

Buried underneath a Gulmohar tree, the man and his diary of songs,
The leaf may travel a million miles but will go where it belongs.