I ҉yearn̨ fo̞r t̞̲̂͊͜͟he͍̱ mag̳ma.͝ Th͏̸e swe̫et w̅a̍rm̉͘th of the͠ liqui̖d flowing over my tendrils. I swell an͜d burst releasing a clou̶d of͜ spores, each the beginnin͜g ỏ͍f a new l̚ife̬. I̪ ͒am ̭contenť̤͂.