Flowing forth from an unexplored spring
comes the hope and unheard of ring
of reason, of love, of rejoice;
The creator of life hears my voice.

The unbearable fear of absence resides
in the forgotten realm of the unused mind.
Relentless, forever searching, comes the crushing
truth that feeds off our surroundings.

Lengthy thinking sessions and laborious travels
throughout the land, Thinking, pondering, lurking
lurking
lurking in the dark since time began
hovering in the night behind the shadows
the shadows of time.
Calling out for aid in a world of emptiness
no one hears,
save one. The one, who hears our pleas, our requests.
The one who can't stand loneliness.
The helper. The one we've forgotten
but hasn't forgotten us.
Always in the peripheral, making sure
we have what is needed to survive this lonely realm
always lending a hand, or a shoulder.
this is what he is. This is why we are.
For the helper to help us. To need him him. To be helpless.