No matter how hard I try to forget,
My mind won’t let me lose this regret.
I try as I can to now move on,
But these thoughts are never gone.
I want to have it ‘straight’ in mind.
There’s nothing but to leave it behind.
Please Lord help me keep on moving,
Give my confused head some soothing.
Don’t let me keep living my past,
Help me be a person at last.
K. Aldaya, 3/7/04
Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5018/5533325673_cfa59295a1_z.jpg
I’ve found that no matter how I try to,
I don’t seem to fit in this world that you do.
I’m on an alien world with all of my thoughts;
A place filled with nothings, nevers, and nots.
But this world doesn’t feel foreign to me,
It’s familiar. I know it. See?
You can feel this place, can’t you?
I’m sure there’s a season when you’ve wandered through.
I feel its’ presence always here, inside.
I try to ignore it, but it never budges aside.
I’ve found that in walking a cemetery through,
That I need be there just as the graves do.
Somehow I fit in this other place,
Where I’m still ever waiting for befitting grace.
The freedom for me to connect with your world,
Where I won’t feel that place with retributions aswirled.
I won’t have to feel that a tombstone’s my own,
That my name should be written on an old gray stone.
A stone in that place that plagues me forever.
A living, vexing dream I never can sever.
K. Aldaya, 2/22/04
Picture: Aarin Dark Cemetery by Nagoth666 on Photobucket; http://s712.photobucket.com/user/nagoth666/media/aarin-dark-cemetery.jpg.html
Here I sit through window glazing,
Watching the world flowing; blazing.
Each passerby is on their way to what they are to do today.
Each person has a mission and purpose,
To their movements; discretions; fuss.
Each as important as the other,
To a ‘God’ one’s not more loved than another.
Each person a soul; life; influence.
A cog in the clock of time; in a sense.
Each so important to this world of ours.
Treat each not as if they’re from Mars.
Treat as you yourself would like,
Each elder, adult, teen, and tike.
They are a piece of this world too,
So watch what, to others, you may do.
K. Aldaya, 2/23/04
Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-thing?.out=jpg&size=l&tid=17332719
I believe if ‘God’ gives gifts of beauty, we should use it for that’s our duty.
For in giving of something for to use, you lose the right to get to choose.
Whether or not you feel open to use it: for ‘he’s’ waiting; hoping,
That he can see you use ‘his’ present,
The wonders of love, for you, ‘he’ sent.
Your gifts and talents show ‘his’ affection,
To a world which needs this connection.
So use these grand gifts from above,
Don’t let them sit and rot ‘his’ love.
K. Aldaya, 2/25/04
Picture: Heaven Light by LyLongfoto.com; http://i1.trekearth.com/photos/48091/heaven-light.jpg
She sat by the windowsill late one night; it was in full winter and the room lit by firelight.
The snow was falling gently to the ground, glistening magically with crisp moons’-light abound.
Not a sound could be heard but winds’ dance, against the glass she gazed through, in a trance.
The warmth cast from the fire she barely felt at all. It was the wintery night scene which to her heart did call.
The crackle of the firewood and flickering of the blaze were distant and foreign now amidst her window gaze.
She felt nothing but the emptiness of her soul, which made her wish for the fire that had once made her feel whole.
A slight movement of her hand allowed the winds to enter, cutting off the tiny bit of warmth the fire had sent her.
Now all was silent and motionless but the falling snow, so she climbed out into it, and the skies’ scattered glow.
She ran out to where the moons’-light hit the ground best. She felt not the snow nor the cold air from the west.
There she laid herself on the white earth, until he felt the warmth she knew to be priceless in worth.
There she dwells ever still in that place so right, where warmth was given to her soul far from the firelight.
K. Aldaya, 9/21/03
Picture: Artist Unknown; http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_eqYkvg-kuo/UHrEVXZRDOI/AAAAAAAAFXU/bYdZ5VuJRBM/s1600/Girl+at+Window.jpg
My Soul is a Lock Without a Key 
