In depths where silent shadows weave,
An octopus in dreams did cleave
To atomic realms, a surreal scene,
Where neon lights in darkness preen.

Its tentacles, like whispered myths,
Stretched through the water, forging glyphs.
Each arm, a conduit of power,
Glowing bright at midnight’s hour.

In this realm where reality bends,
The atomic octopus transcends.
With a crown of mushroom cloud so high,
It painted auroras in the sky.

But as dawn’s light began to creep,
The ocean calmed its restless sleep.
Back to the depths, it softly sighed,
Where atomic dreams and darkness collide.

Yet in the mind where dreams are sown,
The atomic octopus roams alone,
A vision surreal, beneath the deep,
Where shadows dance and mysteries sleep.