373. Weeping Willow

Weeping Willow

O’ Weeping Willow, why do you hate the daylight so?

Why do you cry to the sun and hang your head so low?

Do you want us all to feel the same way that you do?

Are you angry with the sun, which dries, then feeds you too?

O’ Weeping Willow, why do you love the darkness so?

Why do you wave and smile at the moon; and let your beauty show?

Do you love the dark because it hides your bitterness?

Does the night conceal your tears within it’s tranquil darkness?

O’ Weeping Willow, why do you exist to feel this way?

Why must you live to suffer so?

Why does it have to be this way?

Do you know where we all go when we turn to dust?

Weeping Willow won’t you cry for me too, when you meet my drifting dust?

K. Aldaya, 10/12/16

Picture: http://indulgy.com/post/cbtCpMSUW1/theclouser; http://indulgy.com/ana–bella/myperfect

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302. Gothic

StarryNight_Posterreworked

The beauty of the universe,

Is truly a sight to behold.

There is joy to be found in many places,

And if I could be so bold…

I’d say: Beauty has many faces.

Even in the darkest of nights,

When shadows traverse the planet,

The universe is seen more dazzling and pure;

And all the stars which span it,

Only the darkness can confer.

True beauty is not found skin-deep.

Things which on the surface may seem,

Dark and depressing or freakish and bizarre,

May be just the things which beam,

And bare the most enchanting star.

You shouldn’t reject out of hand,

The beauty which lies in the dark.

You may find you’ve missed, what in life, is most grand:

Something which shines in the dark!

You may miss a new stars’ first spark.

K. Aldaya, 4/26/15

Picture: Interpretation of Vincent Van Gogh’s Starry Night by Alex Ruiz; http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/starry-night-alex-ruiz.jpg

292. The Eternal Staircase

stock-footage-creepybasement

Down the stairs I wander.

In the dark of night I ponder.

What lives within its’ darkness.

My curiosity grows fonder,

Of the blackness which veils,

Revelations and lost tales;

As my legs shake they continue.

Step by step one voice prevails.

The air is cold and wet,

As the darkest black is met,

And the shivers up my spine:

They’re not mine…Oh, they’re not mine!

As the shivers overtake me,

I yell, “What have you done to me?”,

And a breath upon my ear replies,

“You know, but will not see.”

A scream echoes inside,

And I crawl to the rooms’ side,

As the dirt upon the floor,

Invades my every pore.

The dark reaches in me,

As I hide in my body.

Tears stream down an empty face.

Skin is stone, and I am free.

I close my eyes and there…

In the dark a form is there!

I see it. I can see!

Then a sudden light blinds me.

I awaken in my bed,

Still feeling that doom and dread.

I sit up to the side,

And in my hands I rest my head.

I lift my head and sigh,

And it turns into a cry.

Satans’ face breathes on mine,

And growls: “Sing me a lullaby!”,

“As I rape all that is mine”……..

–I walk the house today,

And every door and every way,

Leads down a dark staircase;

So down I step, and step again, as memories replay.

K. Aldaya, 3/26/15

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://ak.picdn.net/shutterstock/videos/4628543/preview/stock-footage-creepy-possessed-man-in-the-basement-attacks-camera.jpg

282. The Tree

Tree Awakening

Growing. Advancing its’ roots.

The tree always blossoms with time,

And in time it must feed its’ roots;

With sunshine.

Inside the flesh it has grown.

Now out of flesh it must rise,

And break through the skin and bone;

To survive.

Boring its’ way through the cheek.

Blood oozes and creeps down its’ bark.

Will the world be ready for this freak;

And fathom?

Gasps and screams sing-out as it grows.

“Oh, how horrid the truth! How bizarre!”

“This black-tree only spreads and sows;

Its’ evil!”

“Cut it down! Cut it down! The devil needs no light!”

“Let it live in the darkness it exposes!”

Too obscene to look at, and offensive a blight;

To accept.

Growing. It always keeps growing alone.

Cut back and cut down,….it remains.

For evil once lived finds a life of its’ own;

And spreads.

Could the light have allowed the tree,

To blossom into something of worth?

Is there beauty in the horror in thee;

In season?

The tree through each season lives on,

And under the skin it still thrives.

‘Til one day all its’ roots will be gone;

In soul-death.

For self-destruction’s humanities’ legacy,

To the children who refuse to accept,

They should hide the sins of the world and agree:..

“There’s no tree”.

K. Aldaya, 12/4/14

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://dark.pozadia.org/wallpaper/Evil-Tree-Lord-Awakening/

248. There’s a Monster in My Closet

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There’s a monster in my closet,

I’ve never seen it there,

But deep inside,….I feel it….,

Feel it on the skin: naked; bare.

There’s a monster in my closet.

It murmurs without spare,

Of long ago,…of far away…,

Of a place no longer there.

There’s a monster in my closet,

Breathing.  Breathing.  Breathing,…

Oh, and panting for it’s fare.

“It’s not there….Yes, it’s not there!”

There’s a monster in my closet.

“Open the door”, you say?

I’ll do so, with strength,

I’ll do so right away.

Maybe I’ll see it…..Yes! See it there today!

There’s a monster in my closet,

I’ve never seen it there;

But today I’m going to face it,

And be done with this despair.

There’s a monster in my closet,

Of this I am aware;

And so I delve into it’s lair,

To see it’s face, to let it free,

To find another care.

There’s a monster in my closet.

The closet door creaks open……slowly…open,

Where is it?

Desperately I search.  Pull and tear…until,

There’s nothing left but remnants,

Of what once was there.

There’s a monster in my closet,

I’ve never seen it there,

But deep inside I feel it….

I feel it everywhere!

K. Aldaya, Date: ???

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; Originally on Aperture Journal.com; http://imgarcade.com/1/old-creepy-doors/

62. Fading Light

I knew the minute I walked in the door,

That nothing was as it had been before.

Though every piece was still in place,

From hall to dining room, in all its’ grace.

stained-glass-room

The setting sun through stained-glass gleamed.

No lights on, and how alive it seemed!

If only for a moment it will last,

Then store it away in memories vast.

For with the ending of this day,

All life from here shall fade away.

Take a seat amid vibrant light-streams,

In darkening den, to your dreams.

Sit in the  moments ceasing glow,

And contemplate times’ vivid flow.

Wasn’t it just recently the dawn of this day?

Now it’s near gone!

Remember this mornings’ bright sun?

You were here and this misery was none.

Remember when your voice echoed here,

Through the walls…rang so clear.

Remember the last words you said.

“Bye, Love you”, pounds in my head,

As you walked out this homes’ door never to return here evermore.

The sun has set.

All light has left.

In dark I lie loathsomely bereft.

And Yes, I knew the minute I walked in the door,

That your light is fading to some far-off shore,

And darkness will fill its’ place forevermore.

K. Aldaya, 6/27/04 (a.k.a. K. Batza)

Picture:  “Beit El Deen Palace: Stained Glass Room” by beirutmabitmoot; https://beirutmabitmoot.wordpress.com/2011/10/19/526/