Opening my eyes, I see nothing. Only a blackness. I feel comforted. How are you, my friend?
A small beam rests on my altar. It is the only light that visits my darkness. By the light of the small beam, I sit and work, toiling for a brighter tomorrow. I am at my best, in the darkness.
How many dark tomorrows will there be before the bright one finally comes?
I have grown used to the darkness. It is my loyal companion.
If I so happen to chance upon the tomorrow that shines and dazzles, will it hurt my eyes?
I am not used to the brightness. My eyes cringe with discomfort. I run towards the darkness, and hide.
The darkness envelops me in its velvet arms, and I am safe.
