Fall down dead

They fall down dead and dry;
On a lonely road, stamped upon, unnoticed;
They fall down dead and dry;
On the luscious green grass, raked away from the lawn;

They’ll no more hug the blooming flowers under the deep serene on a spring morning, they’ll no longer wear the jewel of the dew drops.
They get no admiration of that young man on the bench with his lens gear around his neck.
They fall down on a cold autumn land, to delicately bear the weight of the heaping snow fall.
They no longer feel the chills of the winter morning.

They look like they are drained and have no limbs to dance.
They once adorned the trees on green springs; they once gently danced to the tunes of the enchanting breeze.
They once bejeweled the crown of the woods; they once protected the orphans from the summer strokes. 
They now perish leaving her mother standing still and unshaken until she bears the new ones.

They fall down, to get unnoticed and to get cramped.
Oh now they fall down on a lonely land, raked away by the gloomy winds.