O’ festered a hand-brush painted chromatic scales;
Notes float through vibrations of abstracted melodies,
Deft fog foaming around the tellurian vessel,
A minor to blue sharply lifted;
Harmonically unlatched the gray mist settles.
Imprisoned valor inside the inland empire,
And the sounds depart;
The colors withdraw,
From the sheet of paper ripped inward
Left the fleck of sensory creation,
Without the ability to sense or smell,
Tell from where C major decomposed Vivaldi;
Monet surfed on a cloud of monads:
Functioning life colorless and dreary.
In and out the state-like dream awakes,
Confer to them with no substance,
or destination.
Written the symphony in-reverse canvases
Inside the dream the people gather, outside
Hasten the conclusion an incision made.
The mind a functor without real estate.