A discolouration of the world you knew
The sun is so few and far between
The walls are palettes that have grown on to you
And your urban heart, not a single green

The bedroom, your refuge, the cellar, your home
The lamps and all mirrors, coerced into fear
Despite unread letters, you don’t look so alone
Is it your talks to the wall, or someone so dear?

Dearly, so, but not close to side
For this house is alone, but creatures down under
So where is your dear, your dream-sunken bride?
Are you living out on pastel pictures sundered?

For your eyes are colourless, yet hers so vibrant
Yes, there is more to a festival than the full moon
So close your eyes, fool, don’t be so stagnant
Only in dreams, can you bloom

But when I woke, tears coloured my view
To have and to hold, and to lose to flight!
I fall asleep again every passing hour
To escape, I grow vacant with every passing night

In the cellar, my home, I miserably belong
And fate would never have it any other way
But secretly so, I still dream, and I long
Of a forest outside, where colours take place