Rearrange the Art

Maybe I could rearrange the art That hangs upon these walls Or maybe I should not The masterpiece that lies within this room Has yet to leave these halls And break through every door But I lie here on my back I stare into the white The lack of color blinds these eyes With silence comes the sight Maybe I could call you on the phone Tell you all my thoughts Or maybe I should not These corridors and empty feathered beds Are lacking what I'd hoped In pictures in my head But I lie here on my back I stare into the black The lack of color blinds these eyes With darkness comes the night Maybe I can do this on my own Make way for solitude Or maybe I need you The ruby hues that outline all my words Are chapped and humming chords I've never used before But I lie here on my back I stare into the past The memories cloud my mind With dreaming comes the flight