The sky was grieving
Like the work of an evil child
The early morning swept with dark clouds
Desolate and dangerous
Streaks of coal black
Terrified of the silence
Impossible to think
Feel unwanted in this land
I being human with a shyness
Trapped in color


The late afternoon changed everything

The strange landscape shouted with color
The native clime is a load of milk and honey 
The night was like a small fire
Hear the excited crackle of the branches
The chuckling bark of the dark
Night was friendlier than the day
Smell the perfume of the burning wood
Dazzled by the clarity of the light
Pure ecstatic comfort
Trapped in color