Hewn from the heart of the mountain's embrace,
Where stone and spirit intertwine in grace,
A temple rises, silent and serene,
A haven of dreams where the soul turns keen.

Carved clouds billow on the arched dome high,
Swirling like thoughts that dance in the sky.
Angels kneel in eternal repose,
Among vines that cradle silvery rose.

The swans of the gateway, their wings outspread,
Guard mysteries whispered, unsaid yet read.
One faces the depths, where dreams descend,
The other greets dawn, where visions mend.

Through mist that clings like a lover's breath,
Fragrant with lavender, quiet as death,
The path unwinds on spongy ground,
Each step a note in silence profound.

Candles alight on a ceiling of stars,
Casting their glow through time's faint scars.
Columns entwined with beasts and men,
In fantasies wrought by an artist's pen.

Within the sanctuary, soft as a sigh,
Lies the resting chamber, where spirits lie.
A spiral etched with words untold,
In tongues of the ancients, dreams unfold.

Here rests a pillow, moon-silvered and vast,
A cradle for thoughts, a haven steadfast.
A sleepy cat, with fur aglow,
Purrs melodies of the worlds below.

Above, the shaft of silvery light,
Illuminates whispers of endless night.
"Here unfold all possibility," it declares,
"And awaken the dream that slumbers there."

Oh, Valnurana, goddess divine,
Whose realm we tread when stars align.
Your temple, a bridge, a tranquil stream,
Where life and slumber merge in a dream.

Each carving, a hymn, each vine, a verse,
A song of the cosmos, vast and diverse.
Here, in the stillness, hearts find their way,
To the realm of dreams at the edge of day.

Penned by my hand on the 1st of Chronos, in the year 966 AF.