The Daily Fret; Stanza 7.

Black & White

 

Fates shards,

Like rolling dice,

Were brilliant laid,

Black on white.

That coloured life’s,

Own seething light;

Myriad hues ,

That bled did bright.

And shone in too,

So much that night,

Did pleasant stage,

The drama slight.

Of flitting shadows,

Across the screen,

A flickering image,

From a movie reel.

With crackled sound,

From a radio beam,

That streamed a story,

Of what has been.

A fiction once,

That history seemed;

That told much tales,
To be redeemed;

In sundry rhymes,

In virtual streams,

In chatting man,

In divine dreams…