The world around you grows dark, darker than the midnight sky your used to on your summer island. The dark abyss before you is like blank slate you've never known. You blink your eyes, you squint, you peak, all to get a better sight of the world that's grown dark.
When the moonlight peaks its head around the corner, starring from above the tall winding trees, you see a yellow palace. The palace of Carcosa. Known only in dream, known only in fairytails long since passed. It's old and abandoned. Ruined for many years. The walls have long since collapsed, and the beautiful mahogany doors have rotted, but you still see it as Carcosa.
You see the world as splendid and pure. The grass as green, the air as clean, the sky as fresh with the moons gleam. You see the world as splendid and pure. "This beautiful place is magnificent" you say. "It's truly splendid." The grass is green, the air is fresh, the sky is clean, with the moons gleam. You see carcosa, but stand in carcassonne.
