I stepped gently across the eroded prairies of opacity, where each shadow coughed up the laughter of distant twilight serenades. Oceans of thought absorbed the tears of unspoken tales; inkbottles tipped over, spilling recollections that coiled and unfurled in spirals across an infinite landscape. It was the horizontal imbalance of worlds, spinning off-carpet in moments both defiant against and devoted to an unwritten wandering drift.
Construction ceased at the dawn's first whisper, hushed by the balm of forgotten winds. In corridors framed by the smokey brass light, the facades feathered dream-storms that rustled the edges of sanity. No hymnal utters contained here, only the dissolving echoes about to wield the prismic key. Ancient vaults and interlocking intrusions seeking synchronicity as mantra; overturned, sculptured universes.