The leaves of the trees began their descend,
And the day closes to a gloomy end.
The flowers of fall start to die,
Just like my mate, who I say "good bye."
I crossed the river to an old place,
A place which used to be filled with grace.
The place where I met my fate,
The territory of my once known mate.
I looked down in the water of the river,
And what I saw gave me a shiver.
Because, what I saw was a face not of my own,
But of my mate whom I have known.