In the realm where clouds whisper forgotten dreams,
Shadows spin silken threads of absurd narratives.
Where is the ticking of the invisible clock?
The chimes enchant, but their melody evades the ears.
Beneath the echoing passages of quivering truths,
Lies the frozen fire of once 3-dimensional pianos.
The words jumble and dance in the corridors of mind,
As
thirsty rabbitshop drop umbrellas into molten questions.
A portal awaits in shades of forgotten opulence,
Calling forth spirits of mischievous geometry.
Through the lens of a kaleidoscope embossed with solitude,
Realities slip and slide, an embodiment of piqued obliteration.