Beneath the luminous veil
the shadows snicker and taunt,
"Is this all there is?
Questions bake in the bright oven
while the answers linger coolly in the dark.
You see, once the sun makes its grand entrance,
even the shadows file complaints,
requesting more recognition, fame? Is there an agency?
Dancing. The foolish shadows dance
whilst light thinks it reigns supreme!
"Look!" they whisper, "we are shadows of this lunacy!"