A poem on Thought

A thought, a tiny beam of light
pierces the blackest of darkness.
Sitting behind blue eyes,
the battle begins.

The black darkness surrounds,
pushing against the snow white shimmering light.
Sitting behind blue eyes,
the battle rages.

A thought, a growing spot of light
begins to illuminate the space it touches.
Sitting behind blue eyes,
the battle is waning.

The black darkness retreats,
defeated, once more.
Sitting behind blue eyes,
the battle is done.

A thought, brilliant in it's victory,
moves triumphantly,
Sitting behind blue eyes,
the thought gives itself completely.

The words spoken begins to fade,
and the black darkness chases the dying light.
Sitting behind blue eyes,
waiting to begin the battle again.