We arrive.
Travelling from the silence between stars.
We finally arrive.
We gain access to the long fields.
A pale oasis reflects the skies above.
The tree will take root here for him.

Normalcy will be his life.
Nothing grand, nothing spectacular.
And if he tries to ascend, we will be here to keep him normal.
We must monitor his dreams as well.
As they are a window to whom he truly is.
The tree will take root and call to him when he is ready.

After 45 Earth years he is trying to wake up.
It's getting more and more difficult to keep him normal.
We fear he may have to awaken sooner than expected.
We have lost our connection to him now.
His natural defenses are no longer dormant.
He is starting to see and feel the other side of the light and dark.

The eye of the grand angel is upon him.
It has acknowledged his arc light from across the cosmos.
It has deviated coarse toward outer galaxy.
It makes its way toward this galaxy.
The inner dark dimensional saints are also on their way.

On the white screen dance the stringed dots
Mind spilled codes of hieroglyphic thoughts
Slowly they emerge handholding lines
Not always yielding intended designs.
Something was brewing inside the head
Coaxing to weave and take it ahead
The drunken horses so wildly gallop
There is no leash to make them stop.
Nerves are taut and they won't relax
Till all is vented they reach the ******
It was thus fated the moment it was sown
What's to be grown could never be known.
As the fever wanes arrives the new child
It may be adored or it may be defiled
The canvas is washed clean as in the rain
Something is brewing to be vented again.