There is a world beyond my reality, and into my dreams.
A magical place that isn't so special.
A room that doesn't exist, here it does. Only in my dreams.
Every time I visit this place, it's so hidden, and I don't think I should knock.
It's a tight squeeze in, but wary, things are not stacked properly, yet the never wobble, they never fall.
A room of brass where the bathroom should be.
Along the walls, overflowing shelves of lamps, cups, and containers litter the room neatly. I never touch anything, and I never know the purpose of this place.
It's a nice place, how bright but dull, a place I like to explore.
I hate to leave, but what lies beyond the imagination is left to the imagination.