Flying Spaghetti Monster

When I dream, I leave my room at night
Not as a ghost, or a mindless mortal,
But as the flying spaghetti monster.

And where I go, I cannot say,
It's a place where there are no streets,
And the clouds illuminate like sunshine.
And the sky is dark, twinkling with stars.
Rising above the silky milk ocean,
Where Ambrosia grew on Lily pads.
And Nymphs bounded to and fro,
With lyres in hands and lotus flowers in hair,
Singing their songs to the Universe god,
In which he was draped in stars that shine,
Spread sporadically in clusters and some apart,
In that ocean of gloomy darkness, twilight touched,
I saw the constellations embedded in the sky,
And they noticed me there, flying around.
And they said to themselves,
"What a dreadful creature."

And I woke up.

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