Can you find my art?: Silver Owl

Today I've decided to do something a bit different. This is somewhat of a short story I scrawled down a long time ago. It is meant to resemble how I visualize my insomnia. It's sort of like a strange talking animal from a fairy tale that strongly takes effects on your thoughts with questions all night long.

Restless am I as I try to ward off these tormenting thoughts. Whenever this happens, the silver owl appears in my open window.

“You are not welcome here,” I say. The owl’s pale blue eyes mock me as he swoops into my room landing on my bedpost.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” says the silver owl. “You left the window wide open, you lit the window sill with a train of candles. You have welcomed me here.” My eyebrows pinch together crookedly as I let out a sigh of frustration.

“What do you want?”

“I have another question for you,” says he. I know he won’t leave until answers are given. Until all is resolved.

“Ask away, silver owl.”

“I burn flesh

but not earth.

I feed earth

but not flesh.

I can be felt

but not touched.

I provide sight,

but I contain

no solid form.

I cannot

be seen.

What is my name?”

“Sunlight,” I respond promptly.

“What troubles me now

you soon shall see

is why good and light

are known to me.

Man has said

again and again,

‘Do as you please

for evil is none,

for good is none.’

The same man looks

to the cries

and the bloodstains

of the holocaust

and finds himself speaking

of the wretched ones

and the lives they are taking.”

My face is scarlet and I practically scream, “Why have you come to trouble me?” The owl’s eyes are like blue ceramic saucers steady and motionless.

“My friend, my friend, you cannot hide for long. No one need elucidate to you the good of the sunlight or the dark of the night.”

“Leave me in peace! I just want to sleep!” I swat at the owl and away he flies until he is one with the moonlight. Yet his words remain.

Here's today's hidden art: