Blinding,brightening, irridescent white.
The first sensory input we ever recieve,
Spreading, stretching making itself home;
An orb lighting up our conscience,
Paints our world in its light;
And those who nurture us, the brightest of them all.
Our wold expands by no more than a block,
And there appears a shadow,
Its depth and deeds, unknown.
Dark pool of terror in contrast to irridescent figures;
A block more, then two and suddenly five;
The orb seems to have lost its glow,
Shadows turned paler,
A swirl of shimmering grey,
The figures seem to have accidentally splotched, a little onto themselves;
There seem to be dark corners,
And night exists as well.
The shadows if the initial days dont terrify as much anymore,
Right there, in the middle somewhere,
The orb stops loosing its shimmer,
No more dark corners.
Shadows, depth and infintie greys that stay that way;
The black and white of our conscience blend.