this is my own world:a place of black and white blended softly in grey. a table of grey wood and a lamp with white glass. in it a shining lamp but mere white. a storm pours blue and when it finally subsides and my resentment gone, a rainbow tears apart my dull world. the rainbow splits and germinates forming a beautiful vibrant scene. butterflies of weird species seem to flutter around the rainbow. spectrums blush out at the darkened surroundings but it never turns yellow. then, the sparks begin and the place is at it's best. below the spectrumic sky is a running river of baby blue. with crystal clear rain drops that fall upon the peaceful river that soon subsides it's flow. still as ever the rain drops ripple the pure water. suddenly the water turns stale as pale green as the bark of rotten roots. the rainbow spilts and the inner truth of that deceitful rainbow reveal it's wiles. ruby red blood rich with frowns burned from sulphuric fire poured out onto the river. it turn bitter black into maroon as if the blood had finally died. the pain in it remains and is kept as the river waters turn into a mud like concoction. i lay by the river and looked in. my beautiful refection vanishes into the grey above. the rainbow was gone. the colour stipped from my face and my soul song. now it sings as cawing and crying. i kneeled at the riverside and cried. my tears like blood fall onto the surface and turns into crystals as cold as my stone heart. the crystals would never desolve my heart remains like them. like the sugar craving to melt but held back by the cold air in white. i put my hand into the river and scooped out some. i licked it and in my mouth it tasted as sweet as honey and dark chocolate but in my stomach it was sour and bitter and i smelt the metallic smell and taste of fresh blood. i stood up and felt weak, the river was poison. i fell into the river as i lost all balance. before long, i was sucked into unconsciousness. the lamp on the table now glowed yellow. it beamed to break the blackness. the angular glass hanging from the ceiling was my precious prism. it meant all to me but it was useless now. the light beamed and broke into the prism, i felt like i was flying and light. then out shone a rainbow! the loveliest ever. and because it was from the prism, it was a genuine rainbow! the place spurred back into my colourful world where spectrums came alive! i was drawn from the river and i had a most beautiful world...my own world...Light through a Prism the Spectrum in lifeGod through the world and family and all you know the interest and value in life
a chirp from a bird means nothing more than a thought
