In the hallways of celestial cognition, where cogs etch whispers in the mux of steel and posture, there grow whimsical fungi — bent towards millennial skies. A dream doth vanish in the curvet of an automaton's fantasy...
Beckoning forth an orb of armistry and elegance, lulling thy senses unto intricate jigs.
Unearth thy corolla of perception, rooted to the velvet abyss of an intimate eternity.