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

160. Heavens’ Angels

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Angels whisper secrets on the wind,

Barely sensed, but by the sinned.

Tortured-wails resonate,

In these endless nights of late.

Sifting through spirit skinned,

Seeking paths to heavens’ gate,

Brushing our eyes of glass, froze,

In the evenings as we doze.

Reinforcing haunts of thought,

In embrace of what’s forgot.

Comfort lit-star shows…

Hence, gone, and not.

Begging mercy for souls tonight,

On wings of angels’ flight.

As we softly rest weak bones,

Gently as wind music drones,

And settles within ears light…

“Sinned are thee”, where love unowns.

Flagrant transgressions made,

We shed on face to never fade.

And lo’ the angelic-tenants,

Of gloried sight and fertile scents,

Soar o’er field and glade.

Longing for heart-lands dense.

But few are we who grow no life,

No trees branched to the afterlife.

We close our eyes at night to pray,

Knowing our sins are bound to stay.

For the moon so crisply rife,

Shines in our hearts of gray.

Shameful existence of…

Supplications to above.

Seraphs celestially abide.

Not near we mortals a-died,

Unable for to have love…and..

E’er reach Zions’ reside,

On angels flown in skies above.

K. Aldaya, 8/27/05

Picture:  “Flying Angel” by NaJae-Crazy on Deviant Art; http://najae-crazy.deviantart.com/art/Flying-Angel-345515496