Writing Pictures

Before you get mad and me and tell me "you can write a picture dummy", I plan to do so right now. I'm no good at doing this, but I'm like ok lets try, and probably fail at this big time. Black. Pitch black. Suddenly out of the corners fothe eye you see tiny white dots emerging, but when you try to focus on them, the just vanish. Streaks of deep purple emerge, with a strange iridescence, almost neon, but not as loud. A shower of red light in what seems to be a random assortment of shades. Yellows, oranges, a hint of saffron, and an assortment of blues emerge. There is still a dark centre to it all. Something that vaguely resembles a horse's head. The azure surrounds it. Giving it a defined shape and structure. It forms a mane of deep purple, with an aura of gold, red and saffron around it. The creature emerges from the canvas, and to life. Standing eight feet tall, muscular, powerful. You can feel its aura enveloping you, leaving you awe struck. You wonder what's more to this mystical being. Then the wings burst out of its sides. One pure white, radiant, luminous, beautiful. It reminds you of all you happy memories. That's when you a distracted for a moment. You see the other wing. This one is the skeleton of a pterodactyl's wing. A single lone arc of bone, with another bone, this one vertical, protruding every ten inches. They grow smaller as they reach the end of the arc. Thats the skeleton of the other wing, you think. Awed as you are, this wing scares you. It is a reminder of your mortality. That unavoidable truth that some day, you will die. You will cease to exist. The creature stands tall and magnificent, it's eight long legs tense, and it shoots off into the night sky. You stand there watching it vanish. You wonder what you have created. You realise the beast tithe product of your emotion. You sadness, contempt, anger, greed, happiness, regret, and your love.