Every day is dark.
I flounder at the exclusion of all colour and hope,
groping in the darkness,
for an eternity in the pure absence of light,
searching for something meaningful.
Thin white, the line of light
through the crack in an opening door.
Insignificant and unsharp,
but when the light has been gone for so long, it is blinding.
White is hope.
As the door continues to open, the white floods in,
it fills each corner of my mind,
disintegrates the shadows,
destroys the blackness,