Sometimes my arms are bare
the rest of my body naked and exposed
When the weather is worm I don my clothes of flowers and leaves
blossoming with the newfound sun
My feet forever rooted to the ground
my life forever in a cycle of revival
Sharing my beauty with the world
until an axe brings it all crumbling down in a heap
All signs of beauty and grace are lost
in a heap of twisted limbs
The cycle of revival is no more