3 Dimensional Interactive Movies

a study toward sonnets #1,493 and #1,494
by FisherKingKQJ
#1,493
The damsel wiped a tear from her eyes as she sat
in the darkened gods, her sunshine hair catching
on the pale aisle lights.

So long and yond ago it was that you
Thrummed your black fret balalaika, and sang
Of pitched crusade, my heart inspects the pang
And would relive the epic larks anew.
My litter turned, I parted drapes, veils too,
Tears rolled down my cheeks, God, I'd got the hang
Of alloy-chemy, your pure ingot clang,
Lead envelope round soft gold, soldered flue.
Ratchet pegs with oval heads of opal,
Sharp three point box embossed with thirty grails,
Songs known spoils of sacked Constantinople,
You sang, of Jesus heads, Last Supper, tails.
I drank my pee, murdered my skin tumours,
Old wives tales deliberated rumours.