Painter of My Monochrome Canvas

,
Treading upon the metal armor strewn across the ground
The smell of iron and fading battle cries fill the air
It's the same old monochrome painting
Dyeable by neither the crimson on my sword nor body

You first appeared as a single drop of yellow
In this never-ending sea of uninteresting grey
I was drawn to this new light and held onto it
Even as I convinced myself it would be swallowed up

Now I'm back again at the same old scene
Breathing a little harder than before
The heat flowing out of my body is still colorless
But this comfortable warmth makes me think it's okay now

At this moment my blurred vision caught sight
Of the one color that I had ever seen and
Instantly my world soaked in all your dye
My dear painter whom I have been looking for has come

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