Watching the light

I use to sit there, every morning
Waiting for the sun to silently slither
As i watched the shadows grow
a horrid epiphany slid through me
A manifestation that cut my air
A blinking light of immateriality

The days will consecutively arrive,
and the nights will follow unconditional
Before me,
through me
and with a melancholic ease
After me

You may ask me of such mysteries
like love or death,
and all other insignificants
I am discontent in the acts of man
Bewildered and undone
by a theatre more superior

Ask me of enigmatic beauty
You'll find me sitting there, every morning
Watching the sun, silently slither


(Competition poem)