Muse is Upon Me

The star casts out a lone beam upon the midnight plane.

Consciousness eludes the sleeping lions in a warped dimension not far from our own, where honor and courage are destroyed by depth and knowledge.

We cannot explain these strange bonds that adhere to the facets of our imaginations.

Living as a courageous foe mocks the beauty of protagonism.

And where lie our protagonists? Sleeping with the lions upon the midnight plane?

In this dimension there is a red product: multiplication, segregation, the red product.

Protagonists eat bagels with cream cheese.

Just looking into this warped dimension.

The last product.

The sleeping protagonists.

Dimensional.

A hair of truth and knowledge causes me to

muse.