The log pedestal sits along the stream
Lonely, untouched & seething
It waits
Until the surface crawls the mossy touch
Infesting it's new creation unbidden
It craves
And plots the conquering of neigbors
And allies alike, in the name of decay
It fights
Adorned the decorated growth continues
never satiated accomplishment
I achieve
Until the wooded cradle shows only shape
The texture now a secret
Traveling the winding rivers edge
To tell stories hidden within the weave
I mote it be