All I had ever seen was pitch darkness.
There was no light,
no conture.
Nothing.
Just blackness.
I had no hopes,
no dreams,
no aspirations.
I was just ... there.
But a light dwelled within my very soul,
it grew each day.
Shining brighter than the last.
Until it became powerful enough that it needed to escape the darkness.
And so I let it leave.
I lifted my finger and began to trace,
shapes and images first.
The light would seep through my finger,
creating the image before vanishing.
I continued,
it filled my days with more than bleak nothingness,
and soon I fell in love with this.
I drew anything and everything,
I write poems, and stories that lasted for mere seconds.
I began to want more than the darkness and wished to escape.
It's shadows heard my soul's plea.
Working to drown me from my desire,
It only grew and manifested more and more.
Sick of my prison,
I tore through the darkness,
seeking the light.
There I found a world in which my creations could last an eternity.
prompt: magical black box