Cimmerian Shadow

The rules change by night, have you noticed?
The light melts away behind the horizon,
as darkness pools in shadows and overflows,
staining everything until the black is complete.
By night, all the certainties I know melt away,
everything I believe is questioned, and my sense
of direction for my life are as forgotten as the burning sun.
In the dark, I forget who I am,
the mirror cannot throw my image back on me,
my confines and definition are melted with the light,
and I am empty and formless as the night.
In my dreams, there is light. It is an inner light
that does not guide, but paints the great 'what if's.
As I dream, the possibilities are endless,
I am 20 different people before waking.
My love is pure, my honor untarnished,
and I am brilliant and perfect in ways I could never be.
Nothing exists but the roving voice in my head,
a voice disembodied, full of scorn and sleepy uncertainty.
I lie awake, and love, and hate, and hope, waiting
for sleep or the end of this world, or beginning of a new.
I miss you, are the only words that coalesce enough to form.
Who do I miss, or what? A person, a life, a world far away,
where the light has fled to, where other tongues talk in poems
and beautiful thoughts I can't hear and wouldn't understand.
I am left bereft, shapeless and soulless, lost,
a poorly formed hope in the back of my mind my only guide,
and the hope that I will dream of something, somewhere, someone
that will show me who I am again.