If there is a Yellow house on Bluebird Lane, a Green house on Orange Street, a Pink house on Kitten Road, a Black house on Whitehorse Pike and a Purple house on Firebird hill, where is the White house?
It can't be seen, can't be felt, can't be heard and can't be smelt. It lies behind stars and under hills, and empty holes it fills. It comes first and follows after, ends life and kills laughter. What is it?