Night that didn’t

The thing about this Monday is that it's somber.
I woke up to a silently dark house awash in quietude due to insincerity on sleep's part last night that didn't seem to as much as knock on my eyes.
Each languorous second dully passed through me as I shifted my weight aware of the changing times as heard from the world outside.
The roads in repose were silent and slippery from rains all day yesterday and the slight movement that still lingered as zipping cars and wordless electric scooters came to a halt sometime after two pm.
There were some isolated cases of solitary naysayers who didn't let a bit of lugubrious calm fetter them and still either ventured or returned to or from some nameless adventure, shining lights in an unseen corner that reflected little fairy twinkles on my walls thus entertaining me for a minute moment before I found myself realising that sleep wasn't coming tonight.
It was a slow rhythm of incremental gradation that spoke to me of the gloaming aura harkened by chirps and vehicles swishing through residual road drench as daybreak approached and night I knew had passed counting depressed hours of wakefulness.