Sand of Gray

At bay

Sand of gray

Confusion so soothing

My head

Goes to bed

In the warmth of my intrusion

Some days your eyes seem tucked away

In brief moments of a third-person display

The next I'm far in vibrant hues

Gentle strokes of deep reality, infused

Bugs love the cracks of circumstance

I feel so real inside this flaming trance

And my hand has started to bleed

Pulling at this light that he has freed

In the streetlight by the benches I stood

Seeing the fragility of golden woods 

I won’t see you tomorrow, I won’t see you tomorrow

At bay

Paint this gray

With the flowers past the distance

The thorns

Of this rose

Are it’s invisible existence

Such a shame to hide the petals

Intense connection in divergent levels

I don't care what I come out as

I'd do so much to freeze the clutch of your hand

(Chorus)

Feet on the ceiling

Arms in my head

In this hushed bubble 

I can't feel the bite

Of the pins on my eyelids

To absorb every sight