From "Peoms (sic)."

I never ever saw it - no, not ever - never did I see:
un-dead birds, colliding with their alien counterparts
or the air-ships of Dementia, leaving their gentle, golden, glowing wakes.
I trust these things are truth (Trust and Truth: two powerful [too powerful?] words).
I trust they're true because I have built my house upon them. There's a point where you have to let go and do this sort of thing.
Flow of consciousness. All of these seemingly random strokes and shots and words and sounds will be connected one day. We have been introduced and the fact that we recognize this is the source of our amazement.
Awe.
We, some of us, have been mind-boggled. And we want to go back.