Prism in the Night
I'd rather be asleep
Curtains shelter me
Like a prism in the night
Technicolor flames ignite
I see sunlight in your eyes
I've grown to hate sunrise
When through my window comes the night
Oversaturating bright white light
Shapes and shadows of the sea
Lucid waves cleanse me
Rusting metal of my strings
Softly serenading while she sings
As I find her outstretched hand
Waves wash lines from the sand
Like an eel through the brine
Confusion slithers through my mind
Autor(es): Andrew Moore, Benjamin Burt, Christopher Cheverie
