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Permanent blood
The sun in summer grants the leaf her youth: a sweet-soft skin that gives her glorious grace, with nature pouring silky green, of smooth and glowing chlorophyll onto her face. Then age betrays her face of sallow gold during the days of autumn's careless clime- so death begins to sneak with winter's cold, thus red engulfs her by the cliff of time. But climes shall not erase the mark she left, and red shall never claim to own her soul, though gold has stolen youth in conscious theft, and thrown the freshness in a tombstone hole, her sincere and silken soul shall forgive, and through her son to grandson, she shall live.
The sun in summer gives the leaf its youth: a soft skin that gives it beautiful grace, with nature pouring smooth green, and glowing chlorophyll onto its face. Then age shows its face as pale gold during autumn's careless weather, so death begins to come with winter's cold, and red covers it by the edge of time. But weather cannot erase the mark it left, and red will never claim to own its soul, though gold has stolen youth deliberately, and buried the freshness in a grave, its sincere and soft soul will forgive, and through its children and grandchildren, it will live.