Insomnambiac

The midnight comes amock
Tho’ it’s only 10 o’clock.

At three, the darkness shines.
Awake, nor reason, the mind aligns.

Then, ‘til time to rise, come hints
Of wisdom in random guise.

But these sputter and flit,
Feel so utter but are hardly spent.

Rising then to be put away,
The pearl dissolves
in the new-dawned day.