They tried to fix it.

Added so many windows to let in the light.

Attempting to combine with nature.

Camouflaging its true color with accents of green and sun kissed golden.

The truth of the matter is those halls are painted blue.

Dyed by those so cold experiences.

Even with all of the windows, the sun never quite seems to reach here.

A forever twilight as the sun circles everyone else.

Who could say if the sun was supposed to be coming or going.

A time of waiting as long as is needed.

Electronic cicadas your only company.

Chirping and beeping in hundreds of places.

They are rarely ever silent.

At least I can see out through the many windows.

A place to spy that is not turned blue.

So I might dream about other places.

A place that is far away from those halls.