October 30, 1998


It’s four in the morning. Four candles sit still waiting for a breath of wind so they can dance. Listening to the Cowboy Junkies. Enjoying another serene night while twilight continues to sleep. Tomorrow is the anniversary of a lost soul. Five years has it been? Another sun has kept you in my dreams. My shellshock was finally cured a short while ago, maybe a month. There is a heavy load I now carry. The most beautiful beach, enchanting forest, or highest mountain could not free me from all burdens. Some things are not meant to be forgotten but we are born again through pain.

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist