In the midst of shade and slumber
One dream then came to thee.
In its purpose discovered indecision;
Yet in its succor, ye found relief.
To be roused from the merry guise of fate -
To find what ought not be found;
A privilege to only exist in haste,
The heart beats, devoid of sound.
Rendered lost through ways unknown,
Thought prompts order as havoc augments -
Liberation has graced thy fingertips
Though ye never questioned just what it meant.
Polaris sits among shrines of dust
Awaiting chemistry atop her throne.
As all that attempt to reach her perish -
In the ruined wake of hollow bones.