My Sepia Sea

The feverish sun cannot reach me here

His scalding rays bounce off of sanguine peaks
Shade is my sanctuary
Here I stay as he seeks an entrance into my sepia sea

The Old Guitarist

Presence is diluted
The melancholy landscape swallows the light of a once strong beacon
Radiance is blanched
Yet something flickers dim
Out of the harsh sorrow a melody cries
A gentle waltz over the hope strings of his heart

"Arrested Development"

I struggle through this raw distress

Its disturbing incompleteness haunts my soul
Perhaps it was meant to give me rest
But nothing could ever make that so

A respite was granted for an unfinished result

It stutters out a stagnant half breath
Its thoughts are left bare, waiting to be clothed
But it remains a disturbance till death

Mountains of White

The white confines me.

A blockade of all color
Denies progression.

Black opens a path.

Absence grants my mind passage
Through colorless hills.

-Kaija Nielsen