“Dream the dreams of Morpheus, my dear so near to cheer, with fine wine in hand as you listen to star-filled band as sand quickens thru the hourglass, let time pass as Father Time will, and warm yourself against winter chill,” Selená spoke as she drew my head near, exiting fear, deafening me to shrill dæmonic cries, what flies from depths of hell with bell tolling death. “Dream now as I sooth fevered brow; drink of my cream and dream the dreams of my brother, Morpheus.”
Note: Painting by Pierre-Narcisse Guérin
noblethemes 
Your use of language here is exquisite, my friend. 🙂
Thank you so much, Tony! 🙂