Do not be so vain, as to release me

for i will not emerge.

This delicate swaddling of mine is becoming threadbare,

the fibres are breaking, even now.

Do not tarnish my fate with your touch,

dirty and guilty, as it is.

The time is near and i am awoken to prepare.

Dead limbs, coming to life,

i can feel them, their strength building.

I begin to claw, to tear at the bandage that holds me.

Slowly, I am born again,

changed and purged.

A second chance to be free and i feel myself fly.

Golden green shimmers in the sun as i dance among the flora,

vivid and bold.

I do my life's bidding tirelessly, until

my season has changed and my time is soon here.

Now, you touch me with your dirty fingers, guilty as they are.

You stain my fate, leaving me crushed.

Blown away in the autumn winds,

flecks of golden green no longer shining.

Forgotten and insignificant.

Was i ever worth my life?