Lyrical Riffs At first the world was flooded
With the colours of rainbow,
Rampant, Uncontrollable, Exhilarating,
Then a kind of red-grey
Muddied the picture,
The colour of deceit and death.
Then a remix of the rainbow,
The colours less bright,
The hues merging,
But still an expression of the rainbow.
Then a deep, deep crimson,
A scarlet outpouring flooding life’s screen,
Daubed with the strokes of a cruel cross.
And then the colours of dawn,
Bleeding across a new day,
But not from an open wound
From a healed one.
And then the whole palette
Was handed to the planet,
For people to pick up the brushes
And paint pictures themselves.
Not perfect works of art,
But a billion billion tiny powerful
Portraits.
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