398. I…I Don’t Want to Die

I…I don’t want to die.

“But you are broken, you say?

The only way to fix you,

Is for you to simply die,

And be reborn as someone new.”

I…I don’t want to die.

I know that I am broken,

And that’s all you can see;

Yet, why do I have to die,

For you to be able to love me?

I…I don’t want to die.

Do I really have no worth?

Am I something to be tossed,

And left all alone to die?

Am I truly one of the lost?

I…I don’t want to die.

I just want you to stay here;

To hold me close and tell me,

That I do not have to die,

For you to see me as worthy.

For you to be able to love me…

I…I don’t want to die.

K. Aldaya, 5/29/17

Picture: from Sherlock; http://pharlapcartoonist.tumblr.com/

391. Resolution

He balances on the edge and walks,

The rusted railroad tracks,

And as he teeters-on, he talks…

To himself (as no one’s there).

How had the tracks, which seemed so straight,

Led him to this place?

Where winds tipped his weight,

O’er the edge of no return.

It’s funny how one simple choice,

Leads us down a path;

And how easy it is to follow that choice,

To the brink, without a thought.

One step and then another more.

Our fates, by steps, are set;

And even if we wish for more,

We can’t go back or regret.

He balances on the edge and walks,

The rusted railroad tracks,

And as the wind strengthens, he talks:

“Oh how I wish I’d looked up!”

K. Aldaya, 3/31/17

Picture: Originally from Alamy; https://www.timeshighereducation.com/books/review-the-trolley-problem-mysteries-f-m-kamm-oxford-university-press#survey-answer

390. Heaven

6998738-fantasy-grass-field

Let us meet upon the spectral plains of Elysium,

Where all are equal in the eyes of the sun,

As we rest our heads to dream forever,

Of what could never be on Earth;

And of ties which could not sever,

Us, from our birth.

Rest your head upon my shoulder and dream of yesterdays,

As the labors of blood and flesh fade away.

Here you’re my brother, my sister, my kin.

Our fates are eternally bound.

Beyond prejudice, fear, and sin,

Heaven is found.

K. Aldaya, 3/22/17

Picture: Uploaded by Kipketera on 7-themes.com; http://7-themes.com/6998738-fantasy-grass-field.html

388. Broken Vessel

I had no right to refuse you,

For I had no rights at all.

You locked me within your eyes,

And from then on I was all…

You could see.

You gazed at me with doting eyes,

While you bled your victims dry.

You didn’t plan to kill me too,

And I didn’t want to die…

Just like them.

You stared into my eyes so deep.

You invaded my brain.

I became your loving home,

And you drove me insane…

With your thoughts.

Pleasure and pain you intermix.

As you love, so do you cry.

You drown me in your tears and rage,

While I lie still and try…

To go home.

Yet there’s no home to go back to,

Nor any door you cannot access.

You and I, we share this home,

And trying to escape: a hopeless…

Endeavor.

You walk these halls eternally,

And you, my fate, have judged.

The walls are made of bitter tears,

And each bloody lash is smudged…

Into bars.

I have no right to hate you,

For I have no rights at all.

You stole far down into my soul,

And from then on you were all…

That I am.

The criminal and the victim.

The loved and the lost.

The guilty and the innocent.

The vessel which you tossed…

To the side…

…broken.

K. Aldaya, 3/10/17

383. The Soul is a Symphony

sunny field

I wonder what people will say of me,

When I am finally gone?

Will they praise me for my honesty,

Or say that I was wrong?

Will they love my naked words,

Or loathe me as a whore?

Will they understand my words,

And why I always had to say more?

Will they say that I was sick,

Or plan and simply: pessimistic?

Will they think that’s all that made me tick?

That I was never optimistic?

After all is said and done,

I hope no one will ever say,

That I never cherished even one…

Earthly human day.

No one can help or change their path;

It is theirs to walk alone.

You’ll never understand that path;

The only path I’ve ever known.

Yet one thing I must make quite clear…

I crawled, lived, and fought;

And as much as I bore pain and fear,

Love is what I sought.

Beauty is more beautiful,

And happiness more divine,

When you know just how rare and wonderful,

It is to feel the sunshine.

To see flowers bloom each spring.

To watch children smile and glow,

And know that despite everything,

Love continues to nurture and grow.

I wonder what people will think of me,

When I am finally gone.

I hope they’ll realize how fully,

I felt and lived each dawn.

–For the soul is a symphony, not a song.

K. Aldaya, 1/20/17

Picture: https://w-dog.net/wallpaper/mood-girl-a-woman-hair-silhouette-loneliness-thought-meditation-of-mind-the-field-flower-flowers-flower-sunset-sun-night-background-wallpaper-widescreen-full-screen-widescreen-hd-wallpapers-background/id/348657/

 

375. The Noose

Once set into motion life continues unimpeded.

The bond of prophecy self-fulfilled,

Becomes the noose of the defeated.

giphy12345

You may struggle and the noose grow tighter: restricting breath…

Or calmly hold your hands to the line,

In-between desperation and death.

K. Aldaya, 11/26/16

Picture: Originally Posted on thedeadhasrisin.tumblr.com; http://giphy.com/gifs/sad-boy-depressed-wOKFDNYyjqfBK;

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

370. Reality

cemetery-pictures-002

No matter what I do. Nothing ever changes.

The world changes around me,

While I while away the hours;

And my life becomes a memory,

Of some graveyard in the country.

No matter what choices I make.  I am here.

I cannot change how I feel.

What experience has taught me.

My version of what is real…

If real means anything at all.

No matter what I try to change.  It is.

I cannot save anyone.

We all live, die, and are forgotten.

Does fate exist and pull everyone…

Into that field of gravestones connecting reality?

K. Aldaya, 9/24/16

Picture: Cabot Village Cemetery, Vermont; http://www.cabothistory.com/cabot-s-seven-cemeteries

367. Savage

barefoot-running-girl

I am a savage.

I remember my days in the jungle.

The feel of mud ‘tween my toes.

The rush of adrenaline,

From head to toe.

Blood raging to win.

I am a savage.

I remember my nights under the moon.

The feel of winds blowing over,

The heavy lids of the earth,

Falling to cover.

In death is rebirth.

I am a savage.

I remember my days on the Earth.

The feel of dust and thirst.

The yearning to drink and feast.

Devoured or nursed.

Nothing but a beast.

K. Aldaya, 9/18/16

Picture: Original Source Unknown; http://sscinnovate.blogspot.com/2013/06/review-barefoot-minimalist-and-forefoot.html

365. Blood

gettysburg_i59782

“Blood is thicker than water”, how I truly hate this line!

How I loathe those who use it (usually absent of mind).

How carelessly it makes claim of the specialness of some,

When any fool knows that we all originally came from one.

How no matter where you live now or the color of your skin,

We are all from the same parents. We are all simply: human.

If only we could look beyond the years which separate us,

And see that we all bleed the same…with no waters to divide us.

Our minds have become barriers to block us from this truth.

To make us feel all alone, in this vast ocean: aloof.

I wish we could stop saying: “Black, white, yellow, or red”,

And look upon anothers’ face to see only sister or brother instead;

But rather, humans build their walls to conquer and divide.

To place themselves upon thrones, and wage war on the other side.

Anything to exploit men’s fear of what’s unknown or different.

“Oh, a sharp nose knows the enemy’s nose is an inch left-bent!”

How ridiculous it all is…this endless self-destructive game!

Humanity, will we ever learn our lesson and find a more rewarding aim?

I pray that time does teach us things that we will not repeat.

That lessons learned will one day stick and each heart will beat,

To the drums of a unified dance of love and acceptance;

Where the drums of war no longer beat this sad and tragic dance.

Humans do not bleed water and they never have or will.

Humans they are all our family and they bleed the same blood still;

The blood that your ancestors bled upon the battlefields…

The blood which spilt to give you life, from the womb your mother wields.

From the fathers of your father, and the mothers of your mother.

You may argue all you want, but truth one cannot smother!

So this I say to human beings with ears in which to hear.

Never speak of thicker blood or be selective of ear.

Love and grant the kindness which you would like to receive.

It’s not that hard to be understanding, listen, and to believe…

In seeing the best in others, and never prejudging a face.

Oh God, if we could only stop focusing on differences in religions and race!

Put down your weapons children! Mother is weeping in her grave,

And father’s bloody hands clench the soil for each child no one would save!

“We all bleed the same blood”, how many times has this been said?

How many more times must we repeat the truth, before we are all dead?…

And time passes and forgets us, the children of the Earth;

The species which destroyed itself and spit upon its’ birth!

K. Aldaya, 9/5/16

Picture: “Harvest of Death,” the Battle of Gettysburg, 1863, from Gardner’s Photographic Sketch Book of the War; http://blog.chicagohistory.org/index.php/2009/03/gettysburg/

360. Who Will Weep for the Dead?

Screaming2

Who will mourn for the lost,

And who will weep for the dead,

When the tides of sinful lust,

Awash each virgin-bed?

Blood is spilt upon the earth.

Oh, the horrors of man’s greed!

Which never takes responsibility,

For it’s every bitter deed.

Scream in terror children!

The dead shall not be grieved!

Only the victims bare the pain,

Of the sins they have received.

Their cries echo in vain,

As the dead will not be heard.

It only drives them more insane,

With every closeted-word.

And who will mourn for the lost?

Who will weep for the dead?

For rather then listening to the truth,

Men grieve for their ears instead.

K. Aldaya, 7/7/16

Picture: http://www.survivingmold.com/news/2014/12/cirs-the-genetics/; http://www.survivingmold.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2034/11/Screaming2.jpg

359. Vertigo

giphy

“This circle of existence keeps going ’round and ’round,

And I’m tired of this spinning,” she said with a frown.

“It’s hard to keep my feet steady and faced to where I’m going,

When vertigo’s a state of mind and there’s no way of knowing…

If the whirlwind can be contained,

And how long the spin will last;

Though as it’s oft’ been said before, “Children, the die is cast!”.”

The Earth keeps on circling: ’round and ’round we go,

And heads keep on tripping o’er questions no one can know;

‘Til men fall to the floor unable to take a stand,

Against the flow of existence’s every command…

As answers always lead men,

Back to the same place.

No one can stop the cell-bound vertigo of the human race.

“This circle of existence keeps going ’round and ’round,

And I’m tired of this spinning,” he said with a frown.

“If only I could take a stand in this life of mine.

If only I had some control over life and time…

To change what is and was…

To end this suffering;

Though hasn’t every man before me longed for the same thing?”

—As the world keeps on spinning…

K. Aldaya, 7/3/16

Picture:  http://giphy.com/gifs/space-night-earth-p69not0nbwli0

358. If Time Were…

5b884d891e587eceddcf09bee9ac657d

If time were a butterfly,

Could I reach into the sky,

And catch it in my hands,

So time would never fly?

If time were a pirate’s ship,

Thieving our hours away,

Could I raise a mutiny,

So we all could have a say?

If time were a human being,

Could I take their hand,

So we could stay together,

Forever, hand-in-hand?

Time is not a butterfly,

Nor human soul or ship,

Yet I can’t help but wonder why,

The time must always slip…

As the hands on the clock wave us goodbye.

K. Aldaya, 6/30/16

Picture: Originally posted on blessotherwomen; https://www.pinterest.com/pin/303711568592843666/

356. Fireflies

fireflies-stars-night_89915_990x742

Fireflies fill the night skies.

The wind is warm and light.

I stand alone beneath the stars,

This peaceful June night,

And wonder if stars are really,

The souls of ancient beings,

Who look upon the plight of man,

As a show with histrionic scenes.

In the expanse of time and space,

The lives of earthly men,

Must seem so trivial to a star,

Who’s seen from now to then.

Will stars recall when we looked up,

And stared into their gaze?

Will they remember who we were?

Will they remember us always?

Do we remember the fireflies,

Which danced before our eyes?

On summer nights while time passed by,

Did they gaze into our eyes?

Do not forget those fireflies,

Though trivial they may seem,

In the many nights of our lives,

They come and go like a dream.

Yet, if we don’t remember them,

Or moments while we live,

Who could hope for the stars to gaze back,

And watch us while we live?

And recall when our time runs out,

The beauty of existence.

How each life’s spark was beautiful,

In these skies of happenstance,

Where we all danced for awhile.

K. Aldaya, 6/9/16

Picture: By Steed Yu for National Geographic; http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/fireflies-stars-night/

355. Political Reform

Where are the hands which hold you here?

Which hold you to this land,

Of scorching concrete,

And vulgar deceit?

Where gavels scream every command,

Of the political elite.

Where are the hands which hold you back?

Which hold you in embrace?

The hands which act,

To make an impact,

Before time is lost without a trace?

Toward death the odds are stacked.

Where are the hands which hold you near?

Which hold your worth skin-tight?

Hands fall to find,

The world is unkind.

Countless die from depression’s heights,

Waiting for laws to be signed….

………..Waiting for a hand to hold.

K. Aldaya, 6/4/16

347. Toward Home

The fire is set…let it rain.

Sprinklers on the ceiling spit,

Out the waters of the sky,

Which stands above the heads that sit,

Under this big white roof and cry.

Some are looking at the floor,

Thinking of their yesteryears,

And how time passed by so fast.

In the joys of their many years,

Their hope and love had grown so vast.

Some are looking at the walls,

Pondering the hour and day.

Will someone come visit them,

And help them bide the hours away?

Will any out there think of them?

Some are looking at the ceiling,

Dreaming of drifting clouds of white,

In warm, pleasant days of summer.

The beep of a bike horn stirs their sight,

As they ride ‘neath azure skies of summer…

Toward home.

K. Aldaya, 4/12/16

346. Silent Existence

39898_sci_fi_sci_fi_city

Silent. In the silence.

The lack of voice is violent.

Hearts pray, internally,

While hands commit their violence.

Manic. In the madness.

Feet flutter in the panic.

Faces rise, to shade their eyes,

For the sun reveals their sadness.

Reverent. In the reverence.

Souls worship Earth resplendent.

Life lives, yet never gives,

Validity of descendance.

Silent. In the silence.

Even in stillness it is violent.

Mind’s mind, though never find,

Their way to condone the violence.

Existence stands silent.

K. Aldaya, 4/8/16

Picture: From Wallpaper Vortex; http://www.imgbase.info/images/safe-wallpapers/digital_art/sci_fi/39898_sci_fi_sci_fi_city.jpg

344. Random Thought #16

tumblr_nktfmxljD31s91f2vo1_500

The graveyards remind me how far up I’ve come.

The headstones behind me: what years have become.

I still feel at home though can live beyond it.

My old catacomb now ‘lone…remains moonlit.

I hear the depths echo endless implores to return,

But not yet…not yet.

I’m here for you.  I won’t leave you now.

I’ve avowed to be with you.  My soul to endow,

To loving and staying…living on somehow.

I waited many a night next to the crypt,

That shadowed the light from dawns’ cup a-tipped.

Pouring jagged rays: sharp to cut through,

I turned back a-ways to solus I was used to;

And now I hear the depths echo endless implores to return,

But not yet…not yet.

K. Aldaya, ’05

Picture:  From Phantom of the Opera; http://fallenfay-l-h.tumblr.com/post/112922767865

341. The War for Survival

giphy

The skies have grown black near the sea this eve.

Even the ocean, muddied, is fit to receive…

The death with follows the tornadoes of war,

Which spread from the shorefront to the steps of each door.

Waves crash and sting the eyes of the weary,

Who stroll through the streets as ghosts: silent and eerie.

Bodies float away and one man with a clipboard,

Counts each one seen with his pen like a sword.

The shelters are gone. There is nowhere to run,

And each man carries his own personal gun;

To fight back the tide of inevitable gloom.

Yet how many bullets will save even one from their doom?

The world is awash with an ocean of change,

Which washes all men and turns them deranged.

They bury the dead in mass graves without markers,

Then walk off with the smiles which living desires.

For who can keep walking on the bones of the fallen,

Without falling too deep into the sickness of men?…

Who have fallen before us begging for mercy;

And died at the gunpoint of their own misery.

The masses walk on with guns in both hands.

There’s no time for thinking. No time to make plans.

Is this war really worth it?…The bodies and the blood,

Of all the life of this planet buried in the mud?

The war continues…there’s no more to be said.

Shoot down your brother so you don’t end up dead.

Yet how will you save your soul from your sins.

For when your body soon rots the real fight begins.

K. Aldaya, 3/15/16

Picture: Originally posted by Gloomy Rules on Tumblr; http://giphy.com/gifs/shark-attack-ocean-storm-thunder-gifs-dOCG720yNqAms

 

 

339. Down the Rabbit Hole

B9-lNU5CMAEVdxo

Down the tunnel you go.

Do you really want to see what’s at the end?

Be careful what you wish for,

For it may well be forever, my friend.

Do you really want to know,

How deep the tunnel goes?

Must your really slide into it,

To find out where it goes?

The tunnel may lead to Nirvana,

Or possibly to Hell.

I’m not sure I care for either destination,

Yet for you I will hope it ends well.

Down the tunnel you go.

Must you really know what’s at the end?

Eternity’s never-ending you know!

I will miss you forever, my friend.

K. Aldaya, 3/14/16

Picture: Posted on Tumblr by goyoungfree; http://goyoungfree.tumblr.com/post/70635205534/babe-take-me-to-wonderland

337. Just So You Know

B_VmGxjXEAA9MaI

Just so you know, my life matters too.

I may not be rich or know high people,

Yet I think I should have the chance to do,

Whatever I want to.

Just so you know, my life matters as well.

I may not have some great job or position,

Yet I think I should have the chance to tell…

You, to go to hell.

Just so you know my life matters also.

I may not be like or think like you,

Yet I’m not going to kowtow.

You’re not my king you know!

Just so you know, my life matters too.

I may be poor and no one special,

Yet I want to be someone who,

Gets to live life too.

K. Aldaya, 3/9/16

Picture: Street Art on Twitter; https://twitter.com/googlestreetart/status/573476917074116608

327. Let Us All Eat Cake

teaparty

Forgive me, but I must leave now.

Time’s too precious to waste.

Life drifts by us even now.

We should all make haste,

And move toward our own happiness,

Whate’er that might well be.

If it harms none, and makes pain less,

No one should disagree.

I don’t have time to conversate,

On things which can’t be changed.

We’re all stuck here, so celebrate!

Tea time has been arranged.

Sip tea with me, or don’t…who cares?

I’ll drink tea for us both and sing.

No one cares how anyone else fairs,

And each has their own song to sing.

O’ Happy Birthday to us all.

We all were born,… Hurray!

All of us were young and small,

Then grow old and die one day.

So live like Kings and Queens, my dears…

Wear opulence on your sleeve.

Who cares of the rejection of your peers;

If they care not of your joy they should leave.

So forgive me, but I must leave now,

And put on my bows and frilly dress.

I have a tea party to attend.

Life’s too short to eat cake any less.

K. Aldaya, 1/4/16

Picture: By KellyAliceLoliCotton on Deviant Art; http://kellyalicelolicotton.deviantart.com/art/Welcome-To-My-Teaparty-273402429

326. You Gave Me the Key to Your Door

Girl+outside+door+2

You gave me the key to your door,

Yet I know not what to do,

For I lack the courage to use it,

And conviction to walk on through.

I know I’ve always been a fool,

And as a fool I well may die,

Lacking courage and perseverance,

For deep down I am but a lie.

I am but a broken shell,

Of skin and self-defeat,

Whose eyes bleed out realities,

Most find too indiscreet.

Doors may lead to anywhere:

To heaven or to hell.

Yet for me the path is set.

There is no escape from hell.

I long to fly on angel wings,

Mortal souls to save and bless,

Though if an angel I once was,

I can no longer recall the caress…

Of hope and kindness on a soul;

Of trust and innocence.

For who would trust that a heaven’s door,

Would appear in hell’s province?

O, it is but a mirage of what might well have been,

If only sins remained with the sinners,

Instead of defiling all men.

It only takes one demon spawn,

To drag more angels down,

And strip them of their salvation,

And choke them ’til they drown….

On the apathy of the masses,

Drunk on ignorance and pride,

Who never really care to look,

Through their doors to the outside.

When angels look away and hide,

For fear of falling too,

How are the fallen not to fear,

What even the angels do?

You gave me the key to your door,

Yet I know not what to do,

For I lack the courage to be let down again,

And conviction to reach for you…

When you’re not even looking.

K. Aldaya, 1/2/16

Picture: http://www.novahtijusticesummit.com;  http://static1.squarespace.com/static/551f2c5ee4b07d5916c70972/t/559406d9e4b0fc1e2ed46e37/1435764557634/Girl+outside+door+2.jpg?format=2500w

325. Viral

Thank God they are crazy, right?

Or then you’d have to deal with it all:

The facts of life and death of souls…

Your own mortality, and lack of control.

Give them pills and call them insane.

Tell them their brains are at fault.

Don’t deal or learn from humanities’ mistakes.

Invalidate, manipulate, kill, and assault.

Thank God they were born defective,

So the truth you’ll never have to face:

That people like you fill the madhouses,

With the silenced voices of a viral race.

K. Aldaya, 12/28/15

324. Tragedy Incarnate

michael lloyd cemetery

I am the ghost of who I used to be,

Who is haunting this world now, for eternity.

I’ve lived a million lifetimes. I feel it in my bones;

The aching of sore fingers spent manuscripting tomes.

Stories of humanity… of tragedies and victories;

Of poverty and destruction. Wealth and vanities.

Will the story ever end? And what will be it’s ending?

I’m tired of thinking and repeating. My soul needs time for mending.

You and I, we are the story of the universe.

We’ve written it out, in our blood accursed.

Will time end and its’ confines of aching bone and skin.

Prisoners: most ignorant of the cage we continue to live in?

We all write on…another chapter for the universe to read;

So it can expand endlessly, while we (mere) mortals just bleed.

Bleed planets, and bleed the stars…Our souls are etched with the scars,

Of the universes’ beauty;

Written on each gravestone, and carved from fleshly duty.

K. Aldaya, 12/16/15

Picture: By Michael Lloyd ; http://www.lightstalking.com/the-shark-tank-and-what-you-missed-this-week-on-light-stalking/

323. I’m Searching for a Memento

9443446927_5ccee227dd_c

I’m searching for a memento:

Something I can save,

So one day when I grow old,

I’ll remember what you gave.

I’m searching for a memory:

A thought or feeling pleasant,

Of when you were part of my life,

To sneak into the present.

I’m searching for a piece of you,

That I can hold on to;

So one day when you are gone,

I’ll still have part of you.

I’m searching for some concrete proof,

That life is truly real;

That knowing you bore some gift,

That time cannot repeal.

I’m searching for a memento,

To hang upon my lifeline;

So some day when I am old,

I can treasure every line…..

Made from smiles of remembrance.

K. Aldaya, 12/6/15

Picture: By Andre Govia on Flickr; https://www.flickr.com/photos/andregovia/9443446927/in/photostream/

322. Smile City

sadness_loneliness_longing_night_city_roof_railing_lighting_a_girl_desktop

I walk the lonely neon streets,

Of my minds’ perceptioned-city:

Constructed experiences,

On frames of personality.

It glows here with electric-life,

And yet all is calm and silent.

The lit windows in each skyscraper,

Are on all the time to torment.

For all that keeps me company,

Are the shadows in the darkness;

They wander ’bout the city streets,

With motives one can’t quite assess.

O’ the night is never-ending,

And sanity is not welcome.

For the only ways to pass time,

Require certain levels of numb.

The cityscape gets dull and drab,

And monotony fosters art.

Splash of red here.  A mural there.

Blood stains make for good tragic art;

And when life gets too tiresome,

There are always things to distract.

Just climb atop a tall building,

And jump off to make an impact!

One must always make sure to smile…

Or at least wear one anyway;

‘Cause come on, what else can you do?

Has it not always been this way?

The world is built on blood and tears,

Though as they say, “Just smile, it’s life!”

We haunt this endless night alone,

Smiling on with the help of a knife.

K. Aldaya, 10/10/15

Picture:  from HD Wallpapershttp://www.hdwallpapers.im/sadness_loneliness_longing_night_city_roof_railing_lighting_a_girl_desktop-wallpaper.html

319. A Story of Youth

kids_victorian_pic

Delivered in the Winter,

Of 1869,

Without mother or father.

I entered the world alone,

And was placed up for a home.

Men and women entered,

To stand and contemplate,

Whether it would be absurd,

To obtain something like me;

Many parents and kids could not agree.

Then after months, one day,

A family saw me,

And resolved they’d indeed pay…

My way into their fine life;

A daughter, father, and loving wife.

Days slipped by without thought,

Or a care in the world,

And soon those days were forgot,

In all of the excitement.

In comfort each day was spent.

I had a family,

And spent each day playing,

With my sweet sister, Emily.

We were best friends forever.

Our bond no one could sever.

We played dress-up and sang,

Of the delight of youth.

Serving black tea and meringue,

In gardens in the Springtime.

Life felt loving and sublime.

Change is a part of life,

And though I knew this well.

It still cut me like a knife,

When Emily ignored me;

And spent no more time with me.

One day in our bedroom,

She saw me, and she sighed.

Then kicked me into a tomb;

And there within that closet,

I sat and cried ’til sunset.

Soon it became routine,

To be hit and disdained;

And no one cared she was mean.

For I was not born to be,

A blood member of the family.

Then a brother was born,

And he would hurt me too.

No one cared my heart was torn;

And no one would rescue me,

Or heal my battered body.

Emily, in Winter,

Many long years later,

Looked at me, and I at her.

With my eyes I cried to her:

“Don’t you miss how things once were?”

“Emily, I love you.”

“The only love I’ve known,

Came from my friendship with you.”

“My only family’s here.”

“So please do not leave me here!”

She reached her hand to mine,

And walked to the window.

Then her eyes returned to mine,

And with disgust she pushed me;

Without time to scream, or plea.

I could no longer feel.

My face was lined with scars.

My legs broke from the ordeal,

And yet I begged forgiveness,

For being born so worthless.

All I wanted was love.

To give and receive it.

For a moment we felt love,

Before expectations changed.

After all: Society’s deranged!

Love grows and fades away.

Nothing lasts forever.

Beauty and youth fade away,

And a souls’ worth goes with it.

The world yells to reject it!

Out with old. In with new.

So the story still goes.

In time, spurned; replaced with the new.

When the novelty runs out,

All things are, like trash, thrown out.

I died in the Winter,

Of 1883.

When my kind, loving sister,

Was no longer young and small,

And too old for childish things, like me, her porcelain doll.

K. Aldaya, 9/17/15

Picture: Painter unknown;  http://www.edmondhistory.org/events/victorian-tea/

318. Privation

roving_life_by_christine_muraton-d5asr2l

I don’t want it to end,

Though I know it cannot last.

I can’t stay and pretend,

That this is going to last.

I can’t hold you ’til the end.

In this moment of protection,

Holding tight against your form,

An internal interjection,

Rages on into a storm:

Imbuing sound dejection.

I can not hold you here with me.

I can not hold you down.

You weren’t meant to live for me.

I’ll only bring you down.

No love is ever free.

I long to lie against you,

For all time, just us two,

Feeling safe beside you;

Yet I know this can’t come true.

I won’t let you stay here too.

Fly out on your wings,

And I will be here waiting.

You’ve those resplendent wings,

So there’s no use debating.

You were meant for better things.

I’ll wake early each morning,

And sit beside the window,

Hoping time will one day bring…

You back here below;

In a distant Spring.

—I long for your touch again.

I long to feel your shelter.

It’s raining outside again.

As my tears run helter-skelter,

I etch them onto paper with pen.

Forgive me, I am weak.

I know it can not be;

Yet my heart continues to seek,

The comfort of your body.

Now all is dark and bleak.

Days slip by carelessly,

Forgetting mortal lives,

As I sit here dreaming endlessly,

Of former days and lives,

When you were next to me.

The hour has grown late,

And these cold hands are weary.

I know not the day or date,

Only that this night is eerie,

And tonight I meet my fate.

I leave here in this place,

In the countryside of the living,

My last words of embrace.

Some crimes find no forgiving,

But love still pleads its’ case;

And even if for one brief day,

Love is held onto,

When it is lost one day,

It still holds onto you,

Giving you reason to pray.

I didn’t want it to end there.

You were all that brought me comfort,

Though I knew I could never have lived there,

With myself, were you to avert,

Your fate for the welfare,

Of one mere fallen angel.

K. Aldaya, 9/11/15

Picture: “Roving Life” by Christine Muraton on Deviant Art; http://christine-muraton.deviantart.com/art/Roving-life-320468493

313. Eternal Light

underwater-sunlight-takau99

The light streams down,

And reaches out to me,

Like the hand of a God,

Painting destiny.

Oh, what I would do,

To reach and clasp that light!

The touch of heaven on skin:

Warm and ember-bright.

If only I had wings,

I’d fly into the sky,

To destiny, immortality,

On an etheric lullaby.

The light shines down,

And reaches out to me,

And though I sink, I sing,

And it ripples,…into eternity.

K. Aldaya, 7/24/15

Picture: takau99: https://www.flickr.com/photos/thailandbeach/; http://fineartamerica.com/featured/underwater-sunlight-takau99.html

309. You (Yes, You) Are Special

7008550-mood-girl-kid-joy-happiness-photo

I’ve heard it said many times before,

That life has no point and that therefore,

People are dust and to dust they return;

And there is nothing more.

I refuse to believe that this is right,

And I’m probably a fool to hope outright,

That people have spirits, and spirits they’ll be,

When on winds their dust takes flight.

You are the first and the last, in the end.

You exist and there is no need to defend…

Your reason for being, or what makes you special;

For your life is a miracle, my friend!

In all the universe.  In all time and space.

There will only ever be one you with that face:

To feel the sun, and to ponder the stars.

A precious new form of the perplexing human race.

K. Aldaya, 6/29/15

Picture: Photographer Unknown; Uploaded by Veinalldum on 7-themes.com; http://7-themes.com/7008550-mood-girl-kid-joy-happiness-photo.html

304. Lunatic Hours

Red Clock Eyes Wallpaper

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Listen up and listen quick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

He’s a raving lunatic.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Life’s a crazy horror-flick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Lock the door with a *click*.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Choices: Which will you pick?

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Every choice will make you sick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Skin is thin and blood is thick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

You want to know his little trick?

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Slit your wrists and make it quick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Death, it hates a lunatic.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Lunatics are pretty slick.

Tic. Tic. Tic.

Death can’t kill a lunatic.

Tic. Tic.

‘Cause they’re already dead…

Tic.

K. Aldaya, 5/9/15

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://www.wallpaperseries.com/girls/red-clock-eyes-wallpaper.html

299. Star Crossed Lovers

bed-couple-embrace-shine-sparkle-universe-Favim.com-54089

No matter how far we reach,

Our spirits remain distant.

We long to meet…reach…and reach…

Yet our skin is resistant.

Our skin and bones detain us;

Hold us under lock and key.

On and on our sentence drones.

In death will we be set free?

Or is this a death sentence?

Life in prison. No parole;

Without recourse or defense,

Then shot dead through the keyhole?

Someday if our deaths’ pardon.

If souls traverse the cosmos.

Will we finally meet someone,

Discern and draw in so close,

That two souls may become one?

K. Aldaya, 4/7/15

Picture:  By kelsey-makes-you-smile.xanga.com; http://favim.com/image/54089/

281. Reincarnation

om shanti om snowglobe

Oh, how enchanting your presence is.

How my heartbeats run away with you.

To another life. Another time.

Where they once beat together as one, not two!

Does time flow through this heart?

Does it keep repeating its’ destiny?

Through the ages flowing the same course?

Ever to meet and bleed-out tragedy?

So close these hearts to one another,

Always close, yet never close enough.

Providence paints a grievous story,

On the hands of time,…deep and rough,…

In my heart.

K. Aldaya, 11/20/14

Picture: From Om Shanti Om;  http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U5JZM-nIhd8/U6sJpkuUKmI/AAAAAAAAhOA/D6cqDfAHPUo/s1600/om+shanti+om+snowglobe.png

280. The Death of Dreams

in_the_mirror_by_sad_cat-d3geaay

Remember when you dared to dream?

Remember when you still had hope?

When the world held possibilities,

And time was vast in scope?

Remember when you dared to trust?

Remember when you still saw good?

When you looked into a persons’ eyes,

And expected brotherhood?

Now you always expect the worst.

That people are working an angle.

And when you look into anothers’ eyes,

You expect your heart they’ll strangle.

And now you don’t know how to dream.

And hope just makes your heart cry.

For you look in the mirror and all you see,

Is a vessel almost bled dry…

Just waiting ’round to die.

Remember when you used to think,

Someday you’d find some salvation?

And be saved from the death of dreams,

By some empathy or consolation?

Now all you think is that it’s late,

And hopes and dreams: for the young.

And daydream what might have been,

If your dreams weren’t left unsung.

You close your eyes and fantasize,

In your daily dissociation,

About how you and things might have been,

If just one person had offered validation…

Before the eleventh hour.

K. Aldaya,  11/2/14

Picture:  “In the Mirror” by Sad-Cat on Deviant Art: http://sad-cat.deviantart.com/gallery/; http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2011/135/b/a/in_the_mirror_by_sad_cat-d3geaay.jpg

279. Elegy of the Fairy

2010_01_05_old_book_2x3

Leather-bound, embossed with theme.

A fairy’s tale expressed in dream.

What will be the lesson gleaned,

From ancient tears: imbruing sanguine?

Time passes, and on life passes.

On and on she counted the masses;

As they rose and fell ’round her grove,

The fairy, on and on she wove.

She sang and wove a requiem,

Suspended in time in a delirium.

Her voice echoed through times’ void,

Until the universe was destroyed.

And on the shelf of a newborn ‘verse,

There rests a leather-bound tome of verse;

Which when opened weeps it’s elegiac-song.

As woven into flesh the soul’s of the throng,

For eternity unceasingly sing on.

K. Aldaya, 11/1/14

Picture:  “Old Book” by Todd McKimmey: https://www.flickr.com/photos/toddmckimmey/; http://www.toddmckimmey.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/2010_01_05_old_book_2x3.jpg

278. The Lost-Cause of a Lost World?

581ef0f1ef8e18c3a3b41e61a8f6edb6

What is the point of caring for a world which cannot feel?

The poor are left to starve or die from conditions doctors could heal.

Yet, worst of all the young children sold as sex-toys for the rich;

A network built of greed and blood-money: from death, psychopaths grow rich.

And maybe worse the shattered souls of all abused by those they love.

Who will care when they give up…aim that gun and fire, ’cause they’ve never known love?

And what about the trees, and seas; and all the life we affect?

Each day we destroy our home and expect it to last in neglect.

Who will be there to care when humanity destroys itself;

When all the history of man is lost in the narrow drive for pelf.

Does a god, spirit, or perhaps some other being exist in space?

Will they know and shed a tear for the tragedy, of us, the human race?

I pray inwardly every day that man will one day evolve and be,…

Be the hope of the universe, and end the tragedy…

Before it is too late.

K. Aldaya, 10/18/14

Picture:  Artist Unknown; http://www.spiritualunite.com/file/pic/poll/2014/10/581ef0f1ef8e18c3a3b41e61a8f6edb6.jpg

277. Seduction

Favourite-River-Boat-At-Sunset-Wallpaper

He knew better than to dream.

Yet he,…he dreamt anyway.

Darkness lifts for a time as days’ gleam.

Ah, the temptress-sun loves to play,

With the hearts of hopeful men.

Oh, see well what cannot be.

See thee clearly what will die,

When dark descends and souls we bury.

Unadjusted eyes more outcry,

The loss of ‘what might have been’.

Time is both reaper and muse;

E’er blooming and withering.

Aware it’s the reapers’ time we use,

To grab hope-worms a’slithering;

And live as ‘productive’ men.

He knew better than to dream,

Yet he,…he dreamt anyway.

The pain is greatest for men who dream.

Agony is sure,…Yet lo, the day!

What a seductive oarsman!

…on this boat to the River Styx.

K. Aldaya, 9/22/14

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://hdwallpapersly.com/favourite-river-boat-at-sunset-wallpaper/favourite-river-boat-at-sunset-wallpaper-2/

264. The Most Life-Like Zombie Survival Game Ever

It’s so dark in here;

And cold…yes, it’s so cold.

Won’t someone turn on the light?

I cannot see the zombies,

But I’m ready to fight.

Fight for life and limb,

Or run and run some more.

Can’t stop or I won’t survive.

I have to get out of here…

Get out of here alive.

Shhhh…Quiet! I hear….

Close by they are walking.

I will hold my breath and wait.

I do not hear them now, so…

There’s no more time to wait!

Look there! An exit!

Afraid, but there’s no choice.

I pull myself together,

I’m so close….and I….

Open to the weather.

It’s dark outside too.

Though, no time to ponder.

I keep on running….nowhere;

What is the point of it all?

If I live will someone care?

Will they care that I….

I’m surrounded by death?

Care if I’m eaten alive?

Or will they join the feast too?

Laughing:  “She was too weak to survive!”

I have stopped too long.

I race to the forest.

Gasping: run and run….and stop.

At my feet the waters’ edge.

I crouch to sip a drop.

lake

My hands reach….but what?

What is that down in the deep?

There is an eerie figure.

I step back and I weep.

Crack. Crunch. Sounds behind.

The zombies! They’ve returned!

I wipe my eyes; turn and gasp!

You are not a zombie…no…

Reality I grasp.

“Hello”, zombie says.

(the zombie: in disguise)

“Hi”, I reply, and it smiles.

A human smile….deep and warm;

A smile…it’s been awhile.

I can’t believe it!

Do my eyes see the truth?

It moves in close and closer.

Surely, it is just like me?

Nothing bad will occur.

I reach out to touch,

And as my hand rises,

It pushes me with fury.

Backward I fall and I sink;

And kick in a flurry.

I am such a fool!

To believe it wouldn’t hurt me.

I can see it’s hateful grin,

But wait, can’t reach the surface!

I look–it is my twin.

Blacker than the black,

It washes into me.

I drown and when I wake: see,

The being on the surface is…

Human, not a zombie!

There were no zombies.

Ran all my life from them;

Was easier to pretend,

They were monsters than to know,

That sorrow in the end.

Sorrow of dying….

Sorrow from rejection.

Terror of being hunted….

Devoured without reason;

And everyday confronted….

…with just trying to survive.

K. Aldaya, 3/18/14

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_rOEpjOA3UuM/TSUY3XGnkwI/AAAAAAAAB1Y/ZhI8tTXj7v8/s1600/IMG_4003.jpg

255. Never Enough

I am.

I exist.

Why is this never enough?

I see.

I dream.

Why are dreams so tough…..

To hold?

To keep?

Yet so easy to create.

I dream.

You dream.

Though dreams can’t fight fate.

day-156-dirty-hands

And still.

We hold.

Struggle to grasp with two hands.

Our souls,

So deep.

Walking the line ‘tween two lands.

Was made.

Alive.

Hoping beyond all odds.

Destroyed,

And dead.

Both am I; and my head nods.

To earth.

To dust.

My creator and my exterminator.

My love.

My hate.

My lower and my greater.

I am.

I exist.

Why is this never enough?

I hope.

I dream.

And dig in the dirt so rough.

My hands.

They bleed.

For the earth to feel me.

My soul.

It cries.

For the dreams which with dust will bury me.

I am.

I exist.

No it’s never enough for me.

No life.

No death.

I long for my dreams to be free!

K. Aldaya, 12/1/13

Picture:  “Dirty Hands” by Aaron on dailypayne.com; http://dailypayne.com/dirty-hands

249. Gardens of Persephone

flower-field-sunset

In the gardens of Persephone,

I’ve built a house for thee.

So every spring when flowers bloom,

They will bloom for thee.

And every morn when sun appears,

As Helios’ chariot veers,

Through the sky and warms your face;

Do not shed your tears!

For when spring’s gone and time moves on,

And the world seems dark even at dawn,

Remember that when seasons have passed,

Spring will return with a yawn.

To renew your spirits and hope:

To live on and to cope,

Until we meet again my love,

In the afterlife to elope….

Where I’ve built a house near Persephone,

And wave her off when she goes to thee;

Every spring, wait there patiently,

In the home, for us, in eternity.

K. Aldaya, 8/18/13

Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://www.mrwallpaper.com/wallpapers/flower-field-sunset.jpg

246. Happy Birthday Again

3992497669_247ca20588

It’s my birthday again.

Another year older.

Another year closer….to death.

And what has been…..

Is still my life and still my fate.

Forever my story.

Forever passed by so fast…..

It feels so late!

Is it wrong I feel only death awaits?

My prime passed in sorrow?

My prime spent in a fog of survival?

Lost child of fate!

It’s my birthday again.

So I’ll smile, even though I’m sad…

So I’ll smile, even though I’m mad….

At time.

Happy Birthday again.

K. Aldaya, 7/13

Picture:  by Polly Thomas Photography; http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3444/3992497669_247ca20588.jpg

245. Why Do I Want to Live?

girl-loneliness-roof-Favim.com-464660_large

Why do I want to live when life has no point?

Why do I want to live when all I do is disappoint?

Why do I want to live when death is the only goal?

Why do I want to live when I’m not even sure I have a soul?

Why do I want to live?

I will tell you why.

Because I exist and it’s all that I know.

Because I don’t want to lie…..

Silenced forever in a grave when I die.

Why do I want to live when I’ll die anyway someday?

Because I’m afraid and hope to be stronger one day;

So when death greets me I’ll smile and say,

“I’m ready to be on my way!”

K. Aldaya, 7/25/13

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://favim.com/image/464660/

243. Live for the Moment

rainy_night_by_gmk9vii-d8djhcj

Late I lie when all are sleeping.

In my bed tossing and stressing.

I try to think not ‘gain of weeping,

But my mind won’t listen.

I cannot run from the reelings,

Of life movies inwardly playing.

Cannot stop or destroy the feelings,

Which torture yet again.

The pain of living with the truth,

Bleeds me dry, until I lie,

Closed-off and aloof;

I am the walking dead.

I long to get it out of me.

The shame and pain and memories.

There is no way, don’t you agree?

To save my soul anyway?

I could bleed it out my veins.

I could bandage and heal it,

But the truth is as long as I have veins,

The pain will be there too.

Only a moment would I find relief,

By taking care of outwardly-pain;

Then later, heal, and feel only grief,

That the mark is gone.

As I still feel the pain…didn’t heal at all!

No matter how much I bleed it’s there,

So what can I do?  I have to live or fall.

A moment longer.  A moment.

I must live for the moment or die.

Let it all out and cry.

K. Aldaya, 07/23/13

Picture:  “Rainy Night” by GMK9VII on Deviant Art; http://www.deviantart.com/art/Rainy-Night-506473363

237. Cannot Live

should_i_give_up_by_ineedchemicalx-d4dhemr

I cannot live.

I cannot die.

Can’t say hello,

Or say goodbye.

Can’t stay silent,

And cannot fret.

Cannot remember.

Cannot forget.

I cannot join,

Or isolate.

I cannot love.

I cannot hate.

I cannot sing.

I cannot cry.

I cannot live,

Yet,… I cannot die.

K. Aldaya, 4/14/13

Picture:  “Should I Give Up” by iNeedChemicalX on Deviant Art; http://www.deviantart.com/art/Should-I-give-up-264511827

224. I Fall Alone

Alone-girl-sadness-cute-in-forest-lonely

Nobody can help me.

I’ll always be alone.

Nobody can save me,

From the nightmare of it all.

Nobody can see me,

When I cry, and scream, and call.

Nobody can hear me.

In this pit of misery I fall….

Forever fall alone.

Nobody can help me.

I’ll always be alone.

Nobody can save me,

From the darkness which encroaches.

Nobody can touch me, hold me, and need me,

As time reproaches.

Nobody can shut out what I see,

As time, in loved-ones, steals from me….

And poaches…

Every joy;

While I lie alone….Forever, fall (to the grave) alone.

K. Aldaya, 12/26/11

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BSVVQ-Qvw-M/UX5kVQC6TpI/AAAAAAAABy8/cmblY9NUAzE/s1600/Alone-girl-sadness-cute-in-forest-lonely.jpg

215. Masquerade

You wonder about what you see….

If real or merely facade?

But what would you say if I told you,

These masks were given by God?

2004_the_phantom_of_the_opera_003

There is no choice….to live is to lie.

We all sit and grin while we wait here to die;

And into our hearts, with each smile and nod….cry.

K. Aldaya, 05/27/11

Picture:  from The Phantom of the Opera (2004); http://www.misti-con.org/2004_the_phantom_of_the_opera_003.jpg

212. Home

morning_purple_sunrise-wide

When hearts are a-lit,

In the earliest dawns;

They burst out like stars,

In darkest of midnights,

Resplendently glowing,

Forsaking ‘forgones’.

A-lighting the way,

Toward a place to call home.

When days are young,

The hours seem vast,

An infinite wave,

Of ebb and flow passed,

Into the ‘morrow,

Imprintedly-cast,

On grains as they fall,

Through the minds endless ocean……alone.

K. Aldaya, 2009

Picture:  Artist Unknown; http://hdwallpaper.freehdw.com/hdw001/morning_purple_sunrise-wide.jpg

206. Honor

574425-bigthumbnail

Honor,

Devoted to the code.

Don’t roil me up or payment will be your soul.

For honor is manifest,

In each deads’, deep-black, dug-hole.

Honor.

Truer than the truest,

Conditions of…

Of life and love: to rise above,

The tragedy;

Be much more,

Then all wisdoms and vict’ries thereof.

Honor.

Don’t you dare tear it down!

For protection’s reassured with life and limb;

As honor is fought and bled,

With fervent and blustering-hymn.

K. Aldaya, 9/20/06

Picture:  Artist Unknown; http://cache.desktopnexus.com/thumbnails/574425-bigthumbnail.jpg

179. Present Realities Have a Tendency to Change

and-art-black-change-life-Favim.com-184721

Oh, how has time flown on so fast?

We shall not know ’til our breaths’ last;

When we’ll transcend its’ confines.

Our spirits but dark shadows cast…

Just brief once-spoken lines.

We must not let our shadows fall,

Before our hearts be free to call;

Echo: “A life was lived!”, throughout,

Every sculpted corridor and hall.

So it’ll linger soft and devout,

In the constructs of existence,

We know…but soon will doubt.

K. Aldaya, 10/19/05

Picture:  Originally on http://theuberblog.tumblr.com/; Photographer Unknown; http://favim.com/image/184721/