In this place of mist and vines
We lend our thoughts to open minds
Magenta haze and leopard leaves
Across the canopy black bruised night
We can't give in to daylight's sight
This is now, that was then
Thick soft lines of felt inside a pastel canvass
Exited the dark lime neon
That blasted my retinas
In this arrangement of paper and ink
A monastery filled knee deep with books
Shall burn to the ground with wires and hooks
Meant to hang paintings
Of those times we told jokes
With perfect execution and spare-able grace
I'll fall as I watch her pick out dreams to chase
Maybe it's all over and I haven't awaken
From a dream filled with pirate ships
And treasure at twilight