Dreamer of the Dreaming

Rae's light begins to shine ever so brightly as she swiftly dreams into the darkness of the night sky;
no other power can be ever so inviting than the loiter's realm of ANTI-GO-NINE;
Without reaching to receive her, the bottomless dreams echo with snowflakes from Santa Clause to the bright sound of winter falling in line with the summer solstices.
Her dreams have now fury lightening realities' awakening, amounts the scizhorprenic headaches and the balances of rigor more, are the sounds of jackals that cackle the Devil's wake in Elysium fields many may imagine gone but never awake.
Oh, what loves' lost emblem shapes her horizon than this brewery attack of nothingness than a small parchment of written a paper, she writes, to a fellow across the Sea in wanting?