Colours in disarray.
And I see the city bleeding black.
This false sight of colourful life
Within the mask of fog sagging down in the city hive.
Gold and neon lights,
Just a hollow maze of night.
We end our past dreams.
We fool our minds.
The trick to us into believing,
Unto a life we trust to be the ideal yet deceiving.
And we toil and forget.
Dissolved us on to the grand canvas with our own sweat.
No longer we own our discrete spectrum.
All spectra of colours bleed into the corrupted red;
Unto the smear of blood on those pair of lost lips.
©Paulus of Sinae April 2016