I cannot sleep. I can’t escape,
The prison of my heart.
The warden holds his keys to me,
Yet I can’t run from my heart,
No matter how much it torments me.
I cannot rest. I dream of you.
My soul’s afflicted by your voice.
Your presence punishes my flesh.
Ah, the warden knows there is no choice…
All men are prisoners of the flesh.
I cannot leave. I can’t escape,
These walls of blood and flesh.
The world is built upon our cells,
Of passion and distress.
For there are no heavens or hells…
K. Aldaya, 9/1/16