Pink skies across the universe
Know nothing quite perverse;
They wax and wane and come again,
Feeling never quite so terse.

Pink skies come by surprise,

We’ll overlook our duties–

To glance at pinkish beauty

Until they wander off again;

Never quite so pained

To say when they’ll be back again.

Chaos is the stronger intoxicator–
For when pink skies sparsely shine,
Cruely, deceit; evil, and heat–
Take the wits out of a mind.

Witless ghosts, technicians of the downfall,

Coming down to search;

They come, they come, wretched and abysmal,

The truthest expressions of Earth.

Pink skies shall not always be–
Or be so easy, breezy, and freely to find;
But even memories of their incandescent hues
Can keep a witless mind so strongly alive.

I no longer wait on pink skies,

Such a surprise that I do rise, assured;

There’s something more beyond that transient illusion;

Is it good or evil?

I haven’t heard.

Pink skies come–

So I run, and run;

My reddened heart is set ablaze;

Not beauty or darkness,

Witlesssness

Or starkness–

Of the pink sky breaking the clouds,

Could rid me of this haze.
Could rid me of this haze.
Could rid me of this haze.