You thought me flora to be arranged.
In the muck with the fauna,
Let me be deranged.

Let me run wild, be feral.

Let me run skyclad amidst the
Trees.
Don't bind me to your reality.
Don't imprison me in your
Model of Patriarchy.

Let me dance to the moon
And sing wildly in the wind.
Encaged I'll be left enraged -
Combusting from within.