Automatic Prismatic

Yellow as the sun, golden in it's glow;
Red, that falls, in droplets to the ground below;
Green, the eyes that hold back the tears;
Violet, the hue of the shortened years;
Blue, as a sky with no clouds at all;
Orange, deeper than the leaves in the fall;
Pink, to bring out that rosy blushing hue;
Prismatic, the blood, that washes us new;
Clear as water, falling with all it's might;
Black coatings over the shades that color the night;
The eyes, instantly realize the combinations therein;
Sometimes widening, or glowing with a joyous grin;
Relaxing in the fields, I am made to lay still;
The task of which isn't easy, though it is His will;
If we look into the heavens, the multiple colors will fill us;
If we look into the fires of hell, the sights will kill us;
Silver linings dotting every cloud, to cast a wonderous glaze;
Smoke, brimstone, boiling souls screaming in the haze;
Think on the colors, if you could choose, which is best;
When the time comes, receiving it upon a final rest;
White as snow, a color that wasn't seen in earlier probes;
Yet, thought of, in elder form, wearing the same colored robes;
This center of mind writing, now embedded in your mind;
And closing, right here, wisdom: Just Be Kind.