This odes for all the little shrubs out there, striving to tower tall in the forest game. Shoutout to every feral thicket rustling from Sapience to Seleucar.

YEEEaaaayyyAAAAAAAAAA

Praise the root
I came from dirt,
Rain hit down,
I made it work.
Dark all round,
I still emerged.
Sun on me,
Stretch from seed,
I twist,
I climb.
In greens divine-

Praise the stem
with curve so fine,
Bloom so sharp
It tangles vines

Praise the thorn
For teaching touch,
A warning sign
When loves too much.
I lean,
I bend,
I do not break,
My strength so soft,
My roots awake.

[RUSTLE]
Praise the leaf
Each breath it bears,
It fed me light,
It caught your stares.
You tried to pluck
But I regrew-
A little wild,
A little true.

[RUSTLE]
Praise the rot
Where I began.
Dirt kingdom,
Buried plan.
The worms, the time,
In soft decay
They made me holy
In their, own, waaaayayay ~

[RUSTLE]
I say
Praise the root
I came from dirt,
Rain hit down,
I made it work.

Praise the pain
That cracked my shell
It carved a path
And shaped me well.

I rose.
I rise.
I green the dirt.
What grew in me
Was alwaaaays worth.

[RUSTLE]
Praise the pain
That cracked my shell
It carved a path
And shaped me well.

I rose.
I rise.
I green the dirt.
What grew in me
Was alwaaays worth.

Yeeeeaaha"Praise the pain
That cracked my shell
It carved a path
And shaped me well.

I rose.
I rise.
I green the dirt.
What grew in me
Was alwaaaaaaaaays worth.

[RUSTLE]
Penned by my hand on the 19th of Scarlatan, in the year 986 AF.