Prism

i am swinging back and forth
in the art of a prism
swinging back and forth between myself
and a ghostly exorcism
that keeps echoing my name
in the night
in the hall
i will answer with intent
when my ghost begins to call

yes a prism brings a light
with the silence of a sound
catching the sunlight
and the moonlight
then comes swinging back around
to my hair
and my face
the days are always very general
i am all over this place
from my birth up to my funeral

i am crawling back and forth
from the couch back to the bottle
shifting the detailed converation
into a fast-paced full throttle
he accuses me of this and that
pointing the finger and placing the blame
'cause when mr. morgan gets involved
it becomes one explosive game

i am seeing the light of day
beam down on the likes of priviledge
pushing it's way even closer
to my minds very edge
it's pushing it's way closer
to my minds very edge