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.