Where is your heart, when the world is in Sepia?
A strange yellow persists,
Around me everything is curiously warm.
It's the color, layers of sunlight create.
Faded, a little blurred,
Yellowed, but with unbidden warmth.
The harsh vividity of colors is long past,
Taking with it a certain sense of reality.
For Sun doesn't shine the same on us anymore.
Distance, though constant;
Has multiplied in dimensions.
Now all that remains,
Is a diffused today.
The gravity of this today is as heavy as each of its conjoined parts.
Unbearable pull.
The moon of longing,
To my waves of unrequited love.
Do memories have gravity extending beyond the yet deciphered laws of nature?
For this sepia toned world,
Extends beyond its time,
Expansion into space beyond its designated frame.
How real is the realm of nostalgia?
For those of us who live within,
Nostalgia defines reality,
Past defines present,
And future is oft a bleak blur of lost memories,
Extended nostalgia,
And self fulfilling prophecies.
Aren't we all magicians then,
Freezing time into a memory,
Living not in the three dimensions around us,
But in realms beyond the mundanity of reality.
Maybe we live in three dimensions too:
Breathing in air of today,
Fueling a body, rapidly moving forward,
While living in a star-crossed existence of the past.
Why then, do we create an extinct existence, even while we draw breaths?
For comfort is married to Nostalgia.
Yet comfort has no loyalty,
It takes many lovers.
Like fear, and hope.
Yet, nothing has self love greater than comfort.
And in this unrequited,
unstable love of comfort,
The heart is lost, while the world lives in Sepia.
