Beyond the whispers of the waking world,
Lies the horizon of the eternal nap.
A place where the sun's gaze is gentle,
And stars weave melodies of unbroken silence.
Here, time stretches like an old cat upon a warm sill,
Each moment dissolving into the next,
The boundaries of wakefulness blurred,
In the soft embrace of infinity's quiet song.
In this place, dreams are not fleeting,
But linger like morning mist on a shadowy lake,
Where the horizon is a never-ending whisper,
Calling gently through the veil of slumber.