Rescued by Hell's Kitchen: A Dream's Salvation

Amidst realm of dreams, I did roam,
Lost in a building, far from home.
Topographagnosia, my mind did sway,
As I wandered through this maze all day.

A mall in space, high above the ground,
With rooms aplenty, and floors all around.
But restrooms and restaurants, scarce they were,
Leaving me hungry, with nowhere to stir.

My clothes, they vanished, without my consent,
As my body prepared, its own event.
Retrograde disorientation took its hold,
Leaving me screaming, my story untold.

I cried out, "Why me? Oh, why, oh, why?"
But people ignored, as they passed me by.
No one would help, as I searched in despair,
For a restroom, a restaurant, to find comfort there.

Hunger gnawed at me, as dawn drew near,
I pleaded for help, but no one would hear.
Headaches, nausea, and sweat did ensue,
A rash appeared, my body askew.

Just when I thought I'd meet my fate,
A Hell's Kitchen restaurant, I chanced to locate.
Inside, a restroom, a saving grace,
Relief at last, in that sacred space.

I ordered a BBQ Rib omelette divine,
As Ray Parker Jr.'s song filled the dine.
"It's Your Night," the melody played,
A moment of respite, in this dream's charade.

So, in this song and limerick rhyme,
I recount my dream, lost in space and time.
Topographagnosia, a challenge I faced,
But with a meal and a restroom, I found my place.