Demeaning Violence
Has the violence really stopped,
‘Cause we don’t use the guillotine?
Or has it just clearly chopped,
Into our life routine?
A helping of constant demean?
K. Aldaya, 11/05/04
Picture: Artist Unknown; http://helpforcodependency.com/codependency-verbal-abuse/
Sitting still, as still can be,
Knowing that I cannot see,
Anything behind of me.
Hear the creaking ever closer,
But there sit, and do not stir;
Wait for something to occur.
Close, so close , that I can feel,
Breath behind. Almost surreal.
Longing for a screams’ repeal!
Silence but for the soft sound,
As evils’ heart does pound and pound,
In my ears the beats resound!
The terror comes o’er in whole,
A terror without console,
Begetting a tormented soul.
Hand quickly seizes my arm,
So sudden as to cause alarm,
Which foreshadows coming harm.
Frozen. Too scared to make a move,
This vision I must now remove,
For all things to improve.
With a spark of strength I turn,
To see what I cannot discern,
‘Bout this vision that does burn.
Black, cold, and bitter sights,
Fill my heart with dreadful frights,
And a blaze inside ignites.
K. Aldaya, 10/28/04
Picture: “Rabid” by Charles Bodi: http://www.charlesbodi.com/; http://ridemypony.com/index.php/2007/11/16/rabid/
Truth Unseen
Dreams call.
Nightmares shake.
To the living world I wake.
Wishing still,
For clarity,
‘Cause truth is still a rarity.
K. Aldaya, 10/28/04
Winning Despair
Tears alone,
From fears unknown.
Fake’s release,
Forsakes the peace.
Trepidation there.
Won: vast despair.
K. Aldaya, 2/05
Capture with a picture clear,
What all want to see.
The vision of a soul so dear,
And what life should be.
And wouldn’t you agree?
No one wants to see a soul,
Which shows the face,
Of burdens without console,
And mounted high disgrace.
Of thoughts one can’t erase.
So capture picture perfect.
A happy glowing sight,
Then none can there detect,
That there just might,
Be much beyond eyesight.
K. Aldaya, 10/24/04
Picture: “Fake A Smile” by meliipanda on Deviant Art; http://meliipanda.deviantart.com/art/Fake-A-Smile-91941053
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
My Soul is a Lock Without a Key 
