Silence that does not quiet, quiet that soothes the ear but not the mind, darkness that wraps all in imponderable probabilities of descending thought.
Narcissus-X accepts the night, seeks solace on ebon paths whose shadows reveal, more than hide, the trees, the towers, the dim doorways of beckoning vision. For beyond those doorways lie vistas of wonder: dark and light, color and shade, swirling maelstrom and pointed angles of dimensional dendritic expression.
Could but Narcissus-X bring a branch, a pebble, a single scrap from those vistas glimpsed in dream into the world of sight.
Vista seen in dream
Iridescent black and gray
Wonders may not leave