118. The End is Here

He knocked on my door,

To show that he is here.

Tall, dark, and frightful.

Morosely laughing,

Provoking sound fear.

Traducing the silence,

Bitter-shrieks of mis’ry,

Not out from within,

But stolen;

Ripped forth out from me.

Sharply he turns back,

Quick, flees out the doorway.

Came in just as he left,

“You can’t ever leave,

Right here you will stay!”

Day ‘vades his exit.

Window-rays torment well.

With uncertainty,

Time laughing,

As tolled: the End Bell!

K. Aldaya, 2/1/05

Picture: “The Old Wooden Door” by Dan Tucker: http://www.photographybydantucker.com/; http://www.photographybydantucker.com/gallery2.php?ImgCatIDurl=1&ImageID=133&page=4

92. A Burning Vision

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/