I yearn for the magma. The sweet wä́rmt̞̥h of the ľ̺iq̩̟uid f̭ļow̥̲ing over my tẻndrils. I s̥well a͎nd burst̥ re̩̾leasing a clo̒ud ö́f spores, ̀each ̃the beginning of a new life. I am content.