First layer—
Enchanting flowers stood before me,
Smiling, gleaming,
Though it all wilted drastically.

Second layer—
The vast sky above shone me,
Illuminating this colossal ground,
Though the heaven's above sent an infuriating squall.

Third layer—
My feet kneaded,
Compressed and penetrated through my derisory bones,
Just hold still; endure this sudden cold.

Fourth layer—
And it'll be the second to the last
I swore myself that I wouldn't crash,
Despite the flower and the sky exceedingly thrashed.

Fifth layer— it'll be the last one,
To carry on my throbbing back
Brace for impact, I should flip it,
Time flew by; let it be it.

A salty fluid kept dripping on my forehead,
As I dilapidated the agonizing layers
I abruptly stood up; an uproar sprouted behind me—

I'd never guessed; those flowers proliferated.