The Keeper of Solitude

As I lay upon the floor,
I dreamed of something to fill
the crater of a solitude
far greater
than its keeper.
I dreamed of a world,
brimming with enchantments,
where the sun, at its zenith,
would birth more stars
than black holes,
and my volcanic stone
would pulse anew—
reborn,
purified,
serene,
while I lay upon the floor,
dreaming.