Purpetule Haze (draft, but aren't they all)

colors
burning brightly
a conflagration
screaming nightly
collide, a scope
turning slightly
its cyclic nature
seeming rightly

pressed up
against a thick pa(i)n/e
efforts to break which
all loom in væin
depression
tolls(; a/my/like) big Bane
a chain that contains
and squeezes my flailing brain

and I can't stop thinking
it does its own thing
plunging flight
to plight

and I can't help thinking
if there were just one thing
I could want
I'd be all right

(↑ ×2 with instrumental break between)

so I
gaze at the dark (light) show
the green and violet
embraced in constant flow
call it
furtive vertigo
sight that's best viewed
from so far below (in woe)