Nightmares of the Arcane

In the depths of the astral cascade, where stars weave spells in a forgotten weave.

A dimension escapes paralogical thought—a mused benediction.

Boundaries blur; every direction esoteric, horizons breathe softly. Witness the vanguard of sleep awakening, where time's caress is absent.

What is perception, devoid of dimension?
Shared echoes, whispered across unshed veils.