Inventors of Colour

Where do you go to see the sun
When was it that your world begun?
Who did you see in the night so cold
When the aches in your body made you feel so old

The blue ocean turned to gray
The rising sun heralds the coming of day
We were there. We came to see, and we called it fair.

Sepia chasms. Lights in the morning.
Rainbow tendrils. The glow adorning.
We spoke in vivid colours and sang in songs of tones,
Blue sighs, red shouts and velvet magenta moans.

We didn't know back then, but we were the creators of light.
We brought forth the imagery with our playful fights.
We are the guardians, we have been entrusted.
They found us in their reveries when the colours combusted.

Now they call me black and they call you white.
Mere shades to them, but in this world, we are the bringers of light.
Conscious of us in every hour. We are the Inventors of Colour.