In the twilight of sleep when stray thoughts ebb and flow through myriad dimensions, my Muse comes to me and begs I do her bidding. Her voice like the music of the spheres, she need only whisper a single word to give cosmic alignment to my dreams and guide me through the mirrored maze of my subconscious. Kaleidoscopic chaos falls to entropy, and a single path is laid before me, shattering the specters of misdirection.
I fear the day my Muse abandons me, leaving my psyche to wander the wilderness of imperceptions. On this day I should pray my mind ascend into the aether, for neither the ebon shadows of unremembered dreams nor the dull reality of sanity holds any love for me.