A memory so old, turned to sepia
From the pigmentation of Time
Losing all defining boundaries
As the album pages become dog eared
Due to long years of reminiscing
The moments shared together
A happy snapshot, now fading away
Can’t recall anymore on introspection
The album full of memories
Black and white turns to sepia
And ravages of time discolors
Once colorful moments
Captured only in black and white






© Amitav (Radiance)

Church bells.
That's my first memory.
Waking up to the sound of church bells
with a rawness in my throat
and stiffness in my cheeks
that could only come
from crying myself to sleep the night before

The sun is leaking through the window binds,
painting the entire room this muted sepia
corraling much of the sunlight into a few distilled beams
that spotlight dust and dead skin
waltzing in the air

I haven't the faintest clue about what
or why I'd been crying -
just laying there
overwhelmed with great relief
like a mausoleum was lifted from my chest
and I was taking my first breath in months

I want to say it was a Sunday
I always want to say it with conviction
but that might just be the church bells
which I've heard
ring every day

Remember…

When we had too much time on our hands
yet never ran out of things to say.
When we thought we knew everything,
when every path was the right way.

Silences used to be complete;
silver nights after a sparkling day.
Something about the days gone by
makes us want to rewind them and replay.

But maybe it is not that simple.
Maybe we are looking back the wrong way.
Maybe it seems easier because we fought
and lived to fight another day.

We can take a stroll down memory lane
but it’s not a worthy place for us to stay.
For nostalgia is a sepia toned b*h
who distracts you as today slips away.