The silent chime reverberates:
In the acidic rain, whispers of the arcane
Dance within the fragments of our sentience.
Stitching time into frantic folds,
Eyes closed, we sewed the missed hour.
Pieces whispered: "lost in dimensional drift."
Reach out, grasp the absence of substance,
Where the echoes of geometry persist.
Find solace, then in scattered syllogisms.
Twist and turn the spiral juxtapositions.
Dive into parallel phantom reflections.
Embrace the ethereal shards of light.