Was Water Ever Black?

A picture, painted by the amateur mind,

Like a baby riveting blind of the passing time.

Says the Judge of the Kingdom of Light,

I want to mirror my shine on nature's heights.

The challenge’s murmur was furious everywhere,

Old & the new folks, all were aware,

Wealth or death for who couldn't solve it, BEWARE!

Handsome & tinsel the Glare of Wisdom,

Kept ruminating up & down the kingdom.

Quoted a scroll to his resolve,

“When the darkest of Night will stand with a flint,

Fire bounded with the finest filigree on the client.

Will rise the mightiest spark,

Which will create the Light's forever mark.”

Young Glare on the day bright,

Presented The Judge his artless plight.

The words weren't anything but true,

When would be the night? Nobody knew!

It was then the world with dread,

No sparkle in the Ocean’s bed,

The reflection of the sunshine, dead.

On all the mystic Nights,

The water would be still,

Debarring the moonlight’s will.

Catastrophe crossed over,

Brimming Black on the lower.

The world needed it all,

For that Night, it was an explicit call!

So did a night comes,

On the River Bridge’s sum.

Under a lamp with filigree fine,

There was a drape showing a women's sign.

Seeing her the guards ruptured & were instantly set aside,

As she turned into the twinkle in the moment's glide.

Soothing it was than frightening or a surprise,

It was the lady's shine where tiny gazillion flames raised.

Nothing was brighter in the Kingdom of Light!

When these starlights merged beneath into the Black Floyd.

Believe it or not... A story or just a thought?

A relic or is it a proof?

Grace or one of God’s move?

Seemingly surreal or not?

Water. It's Blue. Is it really not?

Torn like the clothes in pieces,

Unveiling, uncovering making it naked.

Flapped those shades off knowing never now it would be opaque,

Became for entire earthlings the mirror lake.

Kin of the Kingdom of Light was a mighty mortal now,

Light & its Glare made up the water’s startle for forever thou.

Now the light falls on our face,

And crawls freely on the water surface.

The orange sun on the beach doesn't sit alone,

The ocean's body has a flatter, wiggly image of it's twin-like an ill-prepared clone.

Magical fable or is it just meant to pry,

But a great writer’s words never lie!

“Those who don't believe in Magic,

Will never find it”, he says.

Tell me how the fortune to The Glare pays?

Or it is our time to pay him back,

Was Water Ever BLACK?