We All Wither Away Eventually

I wither away;
I can not last.
I will not stay;
My time has passed.
Slowly, smoothly, I glide down;
Drifting, floating, 'til I hit the ground.
As time passes,
I am degraded.
Underfoot are great masses
Of leaves now faded.
Quickly broken, into a million specs
Now dancing with the wind.