The Other

The leaves on the ground lay,
trodden by people on their way;
Fallen from their dear home trees,
lifeless now they rest in peace.

What brought them to this plight,
Oh! it must be the rain last night;
Who's the culprit, I thought,
that God for the rain he brought.

I walk alone below the cloudy sky,
Wonder what it means to die;
Like the ones below my feet?
Or the water taken up by heat?

The trees above know not,
that their children below rot;
The sea has water so lot,
so for it it matters what?

O' here I see the difference,
but does it make any sense?
The water is rained back by Him,
but the chance of a leaf is dim.

So what death is like now?
Do they miss us, those we love?
So can we come again here?
Oh, should start life again, my dear!