NEW POETIC ORDER

The blink of light floods my bare skin,

I scream; the colours of the sound are golden.

The beat of lament feels more brutal suddenly,

I scream; the colours of the sound are ethereal.

The banter of lonely figures making bold statements

I scream; the colours of the sound are irritable 

The basis of living foolish meaningless brazen stories

I scream; the colours of the sound are complicated