The Darkening Pallet

At dusk I'll seek the rainbow arch and part ways with it's color. The sky is darkening, it's pupil obscured with cataracts as sudden sparkle sprinkles, and the dimension splits apart. Out of opaque blue, and into clarity I see the far end of what is near. Forever's end nay come tomorrow but through looking glass I see the day. The emerging aqualung, the shaded spot that connects the quagmire in arithmetic. The artifice wakes and the quagmire vanishes; swallowed anew in vague opaque; intervention in imagination, the mundane confiscation, the obscurity of serenity; I want to remember said fantasy in my dreams, lest I wake again to disappointment.