rhyme and room, dime perfume

Answer me in solemn dream
the color of a loner's coat
and I will question you
as to why life grew rude
in the hills above the
castle's moat.

we seem to try against
what is heavy, and fail
sometimes like Southern
levies, hurricaned across
the nation in a secret
car this side of maybe.

and answer me with bright
perfume my question on
the emotional dimensions
of a teak-stained room,
is it nostalgic, artful,
or prolific? Are it's
dimensions sequenced in
the abstracti0ns of
numerical alphabets, or
do we get to choose?

With cunning eye, you
begin to lie and I catch
you at every truth, saying
that the world is fire
and so is desire, well
only if you are paying
for the proof.