Answer:
I grow where no flower grows, where no light touches the walls, up or down, that I don't care, was here before people were.
Voiceless it cries, wingless flutters, toothless bites, mouthless mutters.
White bird, featherless, flying out of paradise. Flying over sea and land. Dying in my hand.
Though blind as well, can lead the blind well.
Almost everyone needs it, asks for it, gives it. But almost nobody takes it.
Black we are and much admired. Many seek us if they are tired. We tire the horse, and comfort man, and turn White when we've fulfilled your plan.