Empty thoughts fill an empty mind,
Traversing through the night blind.
Life behind.
Every thought has been thought before,
There ain’t room for anymore.
Lost hencefor’.
Never will a prisoner find a cell,
Which like a mind works so well.
A lifes’ hell!
K. Aldaya, 10/24/04
Candle light is waning in the mid of night.
A gentleman refraining from the sleepers’ plight;
Heavy thoughts remaining.
Can the roving mind deeply reach for truth,
And in the darkness find some revelating proof,
That all men live best blind?
Secrets are truths hidden, and when shown they are spread,
Like the plagues from back then which soon become widespread;
All wishing that it hadn’t been.
Secrets linger in the dark or so I long have heard,
And that the truth will lurk ’til letting go the word,
To release the berserk.
But he knows as I do, this gentleman insomniac,
That a secrets residue keeps him wake in black,
But saves all those in view.
K. Aldaya, 10/17/04
Picture: “An Old Man Writing a Book by Candlelight” by Godfried Schalcken (1663 – 1706); http://www.nationaltrustcollections.org.uk/object/290274
Trapped.
A cold damp cell to sleep.
Alone.
In dark silence I weep.
Tired.
Nightmare dreams do seep.
Silenced.
I dare not make a peep.
Afraid.
Of what I’m soon to reap.
Wicked.
My chastisements steep.
Waiting.
Heart begins to leap.
Doomed.
Closer, shadow does creep.
Scorned.
Sentenced as below cheap.
Forsaken.
In entombed dirt heap.
Terrified.
Shivering in nights’ deep.
K. Aldaya, 10/11/04
Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://baseballfordinner.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/creepy-michigan-basement.jpg
Ghosts in the corner of your eyes,
Haunt and taunt you despite disguise.
You can’t hide what you have done,
Their tormenting has only just begun.
You can’t hide from them anywhere,
They can find you here, and find you there.
Ghostly visions of a tormented place,
Where you must ever await saving grace.
K. Aldaya, 10/10/04
Picture: Artist Unknown; http://i.ytimg.com/vi/lJarvZMi0gU/maxresdefault.jpg
I can’t touch anything now,
It’s all coming again,
These feelings I can’t escape,
From things that happened back then.
I burn from the inside out,
Losing realities grip.
Touching things made of soft,
That turn stone as a moment does slip.
How can the body keep living,
With the residue of the mind,
Haunting every motion.
A life sentence of rewind.
Please let this all be over.
I can’t take all this again.
Pitted against the recall,
Of closing off from the pain.
K. Aldaya, 10/10/04
Picture: “Dead Inside” by Pure-Poison89 on Deviant Art; http://pure-poison89.deviantart.com/art/Dead-inside-280258615
My Soul is a Lock Without a Key 
