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Sweet dreams. Let
the somber-sweet embrace of sleep engulf you , and pull you down through its
infinite cinder blackness, ever deeper, its depths equal to the midnight colors
of a moonless winter night, during the hour of witching.
Allow the nothingness of its touch to soothe you, as you sink into the
murk, and finally float out of the dark, and into the core of sleep, the
mystical land of imagination and rejuvenation that is called dream.
And having reached this core, allow the eagle-flights of fancy to carry
you all throughout the borderless place, which only you can truly know, known as
your imagination. For within the
paradoxical land without limit which survives within the suffocating prison of
your frail human body, within its grasp, and only there, can you do all the
things that deep within you long to.
So, for a few brief moments, allow yourself the gentle comfort of the
relaxing ebb and flow of images as they float across your field of view, and
live the free moments of adventure which they provide.
Sweet dreams, my dear, for the morning comes too, too quick.
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