The Coloured Mirrors of the Mind

The millions march in ordered step,
Beneath the gloom of charcoal skies.
They're buds upon a concrete carpet,
The coloured mirrors of the mind.

A slinking shoot that cracks its seed,
To forge its fruit across the skies.
A tapestry flowing from the thread,
The coloured mirrors of the mind.

A touch to make the planets tremble,
Strokes the spheres above the skies.
Given voice like struck cymbals,
The coloured mirrors of the mind.