Arcane Reflection

Am I awake, or is the dream speaking?

The echoes hum through the chasms of spirit—words unspoken made translucent, art of the mind laid bare...

Ink upon paper, a ritual inscription; the runes of yesterday carried by tomorrow's breeze...

Observe now: The Silent Song echoes through time, tales of ineffable vanity...

And venture here: Flickers of Obsidian, where visions refract in moonlit absurdity...