Like a seed it lays dormant. Buried deep. Buried from the light until it's knowing burns too bright to be ignored. The tugging, pulling, frantic urge intensifies and it's inate need for resurrection returns. It fights to stay hidden where comfort reigns. Where stability and solace burn warmly in it's heart. But the urge to change is too strong, and the ache too powerful. The call to bliss is too hard to resist. It needs release.