the paper, torn
old garments, worn
faces, forlorn
ancestors, born
towns, dust
forbidden, lust
crime, just
metal, rust

these days were sepia
like everything around
the trees, the grass, the lovers
even the cobbled ground
trapped in torn parchment
in a long forgotten attic
in a colorful world
more theatrical, dramatic

sepia, sepia, sepia
and only still
forgotten, denied
only a cabinet to fill

and soon, you and I too
sepia will take
our faces drained of color
nothing left to make.