The moon casts its beam on a meadow

Full of muted flowers and their shadows

And among all the others, a small one

Had had its share of being a thing won.

But it couldn't break free from its soil

So it shivered, wishing to be unloyal.

Moons after moons, it couldn't break free

And after a time, it had lost will to see.

It gave up that small thing, gave up it did

The color of the world, the heaven's kid,

Couldn't bear one more night, one more day

Of sitting so small and wasting away

So it lie its sweet petals to the dirt, the earth

And returned to the ground where it had gained birth.