Awakening

I wrote this poem for a competition; it was inspired by a phrase I read about.

I am surrounded by magic,
it thrives in my soul
It is almost a part of me-
a single, breathing entity
in a world almost enveloped by darkness
A drop of fire is my only light,
that flickers for a moment, a tiny space in time
until it loses its flare-
I cannot tell when, for time is so abstract
All I know is that it truly reflects
the spirit of my territory
My conscience is vigilant, watchful,
remaining hawk-eyed indefinitely,
able to evade the waves of sleep
that pursue it day after day
It sidesteps the approaching manacles of languor-
determined that it will never slumber
My pale blue eyes turn glassy, smooth
polished like a mirror, yet always moving,
absorbing whatever it catches,
insistent that it never misses whatever is lit up
by the single drop of fire,
whose beauty I can never cease to admire

Although I never close my eyes,
a strange, inexplicable feeling frequents me-
similar to rising out of glacial water,
or inhaling the bracing breeze for the first time
after dwelling in a cave for years on end
It is a sensation of renewed energy,
akin to awakening,
It is a feeling of sudden awareness-
awareness which had never left me
It is an emotion of unexpected vivacity
of energy that had always been there
It is always unprecedented,
though it keeps happening again
I never fall asleep-
but I keep waking up