Black (i)n White

That was never a shade of life,
That shade which the shadow casts;
Yet, it was the choice of Him
Who forever, is clad in white.
On a white sheet is the black ink
To write the chronicle of life.
On the white ball is the black pupil
To render the service of sight.
On the white skin is the black mole
To mark one with patent identity.
What would white be without black?
A needle without thread,
An incense without smell,
One demanding presence of the other.
None would behave so compatible
A pair that never would bear solitude.

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