Prismatic Sovereign

Beneath the night's embrace, a beacon stands, A coliseum of light, where dreams are spun. Its curves like waves, its hues a cosmic band, A symphony of colors, where the sun Has yielded to the glow of human hands. The city sleeps, yet here, the pulse is strong, A heart of stone and glass, alive and bright. Its arches reach for stars, a modern song, A testament to human will and might. Each curve, a promise, each light, a flight. The stadium glows, a prism of the soul, Reflecting hopes and fears, a timeless tale. Its colors dance, a mirror of the whole, A place where stories live, where legends wail. For in its glow, we find our own control, A sanctuary of dreams, a sacred veil. Oh, Prismatic Sovereign, you stand alone, A beacon of the future, yet of old. Your light, a bridge between the night and dawn, A symbol of the human spirit bold. In you, we see our dreams, our hopes, our home.