What secret lies beneath the sleeping wood?
Where mists of doubt and lies cling to root and stone.
With much stillness, does darkness wait below the silvered surface.
For with the steps of mortal man wake ripples of forgiveness.
Why would the child wake the sleeping giant, to heal it’s mortal wounds,
When would creation fall before the blackness of oblivion?
Which path will you take now? The road lies shatter between each trunk.
From here the Deepening lies Unending.