My poor child; yellowish wilted,
Your golden nectar now has blackened,
Crushed petals into fragments; left countless,
Your fragility has now tainted with darkness.
The seed of anguish; enraged you, dear child,
Left soulless; entangled with weeds,
A path of nowhere; that has now diverged into endless routes,
The damned mantis resumed its prancing with its tibias.
Begone now; you damned mantis; keep away your graceful tibias,
That has done no good; none could endure,
Be gone with your dainty promiscuous mask and your filthy wings,
The very last winter she had once admired.
Oh daisy, oh daisy; why have you wept in despair?
Sat in the corner, the wise pheasant uttered,
Never fret, wilted one; for the pure-hearted child, shall bloom once more with the faith of the robin.
The golden blush; reformed perfectly,
Her smile was like a boat; shored on the slip of the silken river,
The mantis gasped with regret and agony.
Leaving him in timeless despair, together with its blasted tibias.
Oh daisy, oh daisy; the curse is broken,
You are no longer a puppet of an empty shell,
No more strings shall be bound to your petals,
You are once more free from your weeping.
The squirrels and birds pranced with relief,
Watching the daisy continue to bloom in the day.
The child continues to stay in peace,
Placidly laying its leaf to embrace another new day.