Black

Black. Darkness. A moment of night with no stars. Black, just black. But then... was it a glimmer? A ray? A single patch of light grew out of the darkness, blooming and thriving in the nutrients of the nothingness around it. The young light stretched and strained to grow, turning red from exertion and determination. But finally, in the peak of its breath-taking struggle, something unknown gave it a well needed shove - and it shot up into the sky, losing its red tinge and gaining a glorified gold. The young light was nurtured and carefully guided by the wind and clouds. But it was quickly aging, unlike its timeless mentors, and after reaching its highest and brightest point, it started to fall back into the Earth, losing joy and pride but gaining inner light. As its wise instructors encouraged it to do, it strengthened its rays and shot them towards the ground to break its fall. But still it crashed into the ground, and with its last breath it shot the last of its life into the sky. The heavens were painted orange and pink for the world it loved so much to remember it by, through its black-veiled mournful death, until it could be reborn again.