397. Go to the Water

Flow. Flow. Flow in the water.

Tears flowing forth.

Time runs it’s course,

In the flowing forth of words from mouths.

Nothing but a freak.

A child: lost and meek,

Cursed to bear the cost of others’ sorrows.

Fates can not be changed.

Experiences rearranged.

Once set into motion it continues.

Flow. Flow. Flow in the water.

“Kill yourself today.

You’re in everybody’s way.

Why can’t you see your fate is sealed.

No one wants you here.

Curse’s won’t disappear.

Why must you fight the flowing of the water.”

The window is ajar,

And beyond is just a bar.

One step and then it will all be over.

Flow. Flow. Flow in the water.

Nobody will stop you.

You know what you must do.

Look down into the darkness of the water.

Their eyes are looking up.

Go on, they’ve had enough.

It will only hurt a little longer.

Legs break in the fall.

Nobody cares at all.

They watch you with the coldness of the water.

Flow. Flow. Flow in the water.

Crawl to the boat’s tip.

Take a little slip.

Fall down face first into shivering water.

Can not swim away.

Lungs fill up straight away.

Choke upon the apathy of strangers.

Bodies soon grow cold,

As souls release their hold,

And all that’s left’s another child forgotten.

Flow. Flow. Flow in the water.

No one speaks the name.

Life goes on just the same,

As bodies drift away on the water.

Cruelty is a plague.

Apathy digs a grave,

Which buries all the outcast little children.

Flow. Flow. Flow in the water…

…Go. Go. Go to the water…

…….Go. Go. Go to the water.

K. Aldaya, 5/21/17

Picture: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22892496-dust-to-dust

396. Fly Away Child

The grass-blades blew around my feet,

As a child I looked to the sky.

I knew you were my everything,

Yet one day, that you would die.

I studied you in the distance;

A form of God on earth.

I worshipped without question,

The toiler of my birth.

I called out with no reply.

I saw you there unmoving.

I wondered why you were so still,

Neither loving nor disapproving.

Like a picture of a memory,

You were perfect in my eyes;

With a smile: warm and tender.

I was naive and unwise.

Then a feeling hit me like a rock,

And I ran as tears fell down.

I ran, and ran, and ran,

Through the wheat at dawn.

I came so close to you,

I swear I heard your heart,

And as you faded away,

I kept listening for your heart.

Yet, your heart, it left with you,

Along with my youth.

You left me unsure of my worth,

For to me, you were it’s proof.

I was only a child afraid,

Who wanted you to stay,

But my picture of you drifted,

On the winds of a new day.

You never ran to me, not once;

Nor cared to hear my heart.

If I ever needed a hug,

Or if I’d fallen apart.

I wish I’d known on that day long ago,

No matter how hard I ran,

I’d never have made it there in time,

For you to hold my hand.

The grass-blades blew around my feet,

On the day I said goodbye,

To the picture I had of you,

And turned toward the sky.

It’s blue was as an ocean: pure,

I found hope in it’s peace,

That even those left all alone,

May find their love increase.

The grass-blades blew around my feet,

As a child I looked to the sky.

I wish I could have let her know,

That one day she’d be able to fly…

Into the loving arms of some distant, future sky.

K. Aldaya, 5/20/17

Picture: https://www.videezy.com/free-video/cornfield

387. Lullaby of the Lost

Where do the dead go and who can follow?

Will you go to where they lie?

Will you search the darkest hollow,

To find the truth before we die?

Where do the lost go and who will find them?

Does anyone care they’re gone?

Who will pull-out each thorny rose stem,

Upon their heads when they are gone?

Where do our thoughts go and who will remember,

The sufferings of this mortal coil?

The fires of life shed each ember,

Of we who soon become it’s soil.

Where do the cursed go and who will love them,

When they’ve become all we fear?

Who will care to find and hold them?

Who will mourn or shed a tear?

Where do the dead go and who can follow?

Will you go to where they lie?

Will you search the darkest hollow,

To save the lost before they die?

K. Aldaya, 3/1/17

Picture: by: Branimir Jaredic; http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/1-branimir-jaredic.html?tab=artwork; http://www.magazineim.com/home/index.php/collaborators/branimir-jaredic/#7

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

226. The Basement is My Home

creepy_basement_by_creature_of_habit_22-d4ezhub

The basement is my home.

It haunts me when I’m away,

And chills me to the bone.

The basement is where ‘she’ lives,

And where the ‘demon’ lives.

I’ve heard dog bark at his voice;

Though near the door will never roam.

The basement is my home.

I close doors to hideaway,

But the voices won’t leave me alone.

The basement is where ‘her’ voice,

And where the voice of horror echoes;

Whispering: “I’m still here…..hear?….

Come down to my vast catacomb!

The basement is my home,

And home to silent screams.

A dark penetrating moan,

And horrid silence….a silent drone.

Frozen with fear: dead-inside,

I forever roam…..

A world of endless doors,

All leading to my basement home.

One day I’ll have to return home,

Chained for all time,

Afraid and alone.

K. Aldaya, 01/03/12

Picture: “Creepy Basement” by DevilishInk on Deviant Art; http://devilishink.deviantart.com/art/Creepy-Basement-267035411