Blank and unknowing what could really be out there. I am known as life. A pure out a look on things you can't even fathom. Some would never think of me as a one of best.
For this color that I have cast upon this being of my own. Have too much that can be a deadly color. I will show one day to my foe that I am a threat. Not a laughing matter that he can just brush off his shoulders.
I will be a sickness that can't be treated.
An empty thought that shall never have words to fill with useless ideas.
"You think that I would think little of you, White?"
"No never, then I would think the same as to you."
"Fine mixture of love and hate in those words of your's."
"Only for you, Black, only for you." I tell him with a smile, while holding a remote control to the rocket he was tied to. "Bye for now?"
"I would only think so . . . "
I watch the rocket fly off into the sky, about ready to take a chunk of the moon when it hits. Right when that boom of the rocket goes off and a bite of the moon is missing. I know have done well.
Well, until I hear a hissing sound, turning to face a firework set about to go off not from me. And sadly it was pointed my way of stand, on which I find myself stuck from quick dry cement.
"Damn you, Black. You got the last say this time."
Those fireworks might have splattered me to a puddle of goo, but lucky, white doesn't leave a bad of stain as black does.