Poison

It was everything it was, all it was ever going to be. That moment containing such endless possibilities... Vast and infinite. The raw power of creation, spawning time and space itself. Magnanimous and awe inspiring... The proplexity of it all being that the mirrored image is often dark and grim for to be opposite in every sense as a sense should be, can be and often almost is. For what would a smile be without a sinister sneer to compare it to. Soft, bright gentle and alluring? Without the gnashing bitter snickered sneer of what gnashes, with such malice... Cold and cruely intent on its purpose. Could light then pierce the shadows of the veil had the veil not been drawn to cast forth a contrast onto it's purity. For what would the cure then be ... With the absence of poison?