I peer through my tiny glass darkly and wonder how, for so many years, I survived an overly illuminated existence in the arboretum. So hot, so stifling, so luxuriant my unbridled growth. Shunted away to a darkened hovel -- never did they say why -- I languished by degrees, till, at last, I come to be in this state of mental and physical decay.
I would leave momentarily but for limbs too weakened to sway e'en by breath of Zephyr himself. Into the earth, whence I came, will I return? I am bound at feet by entwining tendrils that halt all escape.
Nature, Nature . . . why have you forsaken me?