To Olivia,
The valleys twist and turn under the cool blue air, hidden in shadows.
Darkness has no color.
Even in the daytime as the sun warms the grass, even in the cold night as the moon drowns the stone.
The wind used to hide behind fortitude, and was formless and weak. It would grow stronger.
Stronger, every time a droplet of light, fragile and bright like frosted glass, softly and wordlessly descended into the valley of shadows.
And weaker, each passing day that darkness continued to consume between the hills and mountains.
Though darkness is not all evil. Not always menacing. It does not always blind the soul.
Darkness is light, it sheds truth upon the very things the light has distorted.
But they say in darkness, color cannot be seen. They say you can only see in black and white.
And here I am, stuck in this cage. Every word has to penetrate, every poem has to rhyme.
Every stroke of ink has to impale those who look upon it, and heal the wounds of those who do not.
Now that I've broken free it pains me more and more to know I will never return.
These words will no longer penetrate, these poems will no longer rhyme. These vain strokes of jet black ink will no longer impale or heal.
Now they're just words, back to where they started.
But sometimes I can see, in this darkness, blinding color. Everyone must see, even those who dwell in the shadows.
A vast array of colors that invades this valley, yet is not enough to illuminate.
Perhaps someday, it will be strong enough.
-----Yours truly, Deathless
--Happy Birthday Liv---
