Three short lines, and one image carries all of them: golden leaves falling in October. The speaker watches the leaves drop and sees in them the slow end of something they cared about. Each line adds a new comparison. The leaves fall like a passion that was once dear, and then they drift away like happiness draining out of the heart.
The feeling here is quiet sadness rather than anger or shock. Nothing is ripped away; things fall, drift, and drain, all gentle, gradual words that suggest love and joy fading over time instead of ending in a single dramatic moment. The word "golden" matters too. It reminds us the leaves, and by extension the love, were beautiful before they fell.
The title, "Leaves of Love," plays on the double meaning of "leaves," as both foliage and departure. The mood is wistful and resigned, like watching something precious slip away and knowing you can't stop it.