Perfect Order

Looking lazily out my window
I see rooftops stretching for miles
Flowing across the horizon
Brick and stone and tile.

Standing in perfect order
Not a chimney out of place
Blocking my view of the world
Protecting my private space
Not letting others see my true face.

But when the nighttime comes
And the sun begins to descend
The roofs become but shadows
On whose validity I cannot depend
The fading lights their shapes now bend.

So now in darkness and despair
I seek solace in artificial light
Closing my shades against the world
Struggling not to lose this fight
Of fears and anguish and loss of light