Synchronicity

 A dove-eyed gazelle,

Deep in a forest,

Steps on a dry leaf,

It murmurs with pain,

A thin crackling sound

and it falls apart.

Far away in a concrete jungle,

She has a sadistic smile on her lips

and steps over his heart.

The leaf in the forest

voices the shattering blast

of a broken heart.

A plum ripe fruit on a branch,

It grabs naughty semian attention,

A playful snatchy pull,

And the fruit goes off at its prime.

Far away, the death sharpens its scythe, chuckles heartlessly,

and harvests a young life at its peak.

A pale old leaf surrenders 

to the painless pull of gravity,

And swirls down to ecstatic oblivion.

Far away, an old man peacefully

takes his last breath in sleep.