Elegy of rotten tomato

I can count how many times something like monster or dragon whispers a rumour about the moon or folly or rotten tomato- but, should that murmur or scene live or stay or grow in the mind, wide and strange. I meant before evening or before the world or dawn?- What if the world can be black and white, like sometimes like sometimes shadow, like sometimes rainbow?, A plague?, a strike? or a damnation?, Ah!, sometimes love a requim, a pit, a fall, a black hole, or whichever case never become silvery but an elegiac weep?.