Once upon a time there was a herb very proud of her tender little blue flowers, that was often cherished with drops of rain. One horrible day she had been crippled of the ground and abandoned in the place full of terrible fabric machines that ravaged and plundered her, and ripped her, and bit her, and stuck her with knives.
Herb never complained, although she was used to live in the beautiful meadow in bloom. She surmount through her precious memories.
But life was there and it had to be lived. When herb closed the door behind, she became a really high-priced cloth. That was the reason good enough to be happy again.
But some things never change - circle of life is spining it's wheel. The beautiful fabric was cut with scissors and stabbed with pins and needles. Yet, the misery repayed because it became lovely gown. Herb was feeling happy no matter what she had been through.
Gown became old and worn out, and her purpose became rubbing, and ragging, and sweeping. Afterwards she was turned into a papir, which soon became part of a book, forbiden book. This book was destroyed, burned to ashes.
The wind blows and carries the ashes.