589. The Lightness of Stars

I oft’ dream of three stars united:

A pyramid-cluster,…far away,…

Sparkling and swirling light projected,

In aged-realms which sway,…

My soul to tears.

Such beauty,…it can not be explained,

With words of practical human minds.

The feeling of awe, deeply engrained,…

On the soul, which pines,…

To return home.

Yes, some things, they are not logical,

For we are made of both man and soul.

Man seeks to eat ’til listless and full.

Soul seeks to be whole,…

And connected.

Those galactic stars,…they speak to me,

In a language beyond form or view,

And my soul answers with silent glee.

I am bright and new!

For I am free!

I am free!

K. Aldaya, 9/4/22

Picture: By Jared Evans on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/Wwg1TzCuV9E

375. The Noose

Once set into motion life continues unimpeded.

The bond of prophecy self-fulfilled,

Becomes the noose of the defeated.

You may struggle and the noose grow tighter: restricting breath…

Or calmly hold your hands to the line,

In-between desperation and death.

K. Aldaya, 11/26/16

Picture: Originally Posted on thedeadhasrisin.tumblr.com; http://giphy.com/gifs/sad-boy-depressed-wOKFDNYyjqfBK;

373. Weeping Willow

O’ Weeping Willow, why do you hate the daylight so?

Why do you cry to the sun and hang your head so low?

Do you want us all to feel the same way that you do?

Are you angry with the sun, which dries, then feeds you too?

O’ Weeping Willow, why do you love the darkness so?

Why do you wave and smile at the moon; and let your beauty show?

Do you love the dark because it hides your bitterness?

Does the night conceal your tears within it’s tranquil darkness?

O’ Weeping Willow, why do you exist to feel this way?

Why must you live to suffer so?

Why does it have to be this way?

Do you know where we all go when we turn to dust?

Weeping Willow won’t you cry for me too, when you meet my drifting dust?

K. Aldaya, 10/12/16

Picture: http://indulgy.com/post/cbtCpMSUW1/theclouser; http://indulgy.com/ana–bella/myperfect

370. Reality

No matter what I do. Nothing ever changes.

The world changes around me,

While I while away the hours;

And my life becomes a memory,

Of some graveyard in the country.

No matter what choices I make. I am here.

I cannot change how I feel.

What experience has taught me.

My version of what is real…

If real means anything at all.

No matter what I try to change. It is.

I cannot save anyone.

We all live, die, and are forgotten.

Does fate exist and pull everyone…

Into that field of gravestones connecting reality?

K. Aldaya, 9/24/16

Picture: Cabot Village Cemetery, Vermont; http://www.cabothistory.com/cabot-s-seven-cemeteries

350. Murderer!

You asked me what I want from you,

I’m happy to oblige.

I simply want my soul which you…

Massacred!

You laugh, for you know you can’t bring,

Anything back from death;

Because once you murder something…

It is gone.

You know you can’t change what you’ve done,

And what you never did.

You walk headfirst into the sun…

Blindly on.

Why did you always walk on by,

While I bled under your feet?

You knew my soul was going to die…

And let it.

So, don’t ask me what I want.

You know it is no use.

My soul left long ago to haunt…

Your conscience.

I want my soul back! Give it back!!

I’m hollow bones and skin!

Why did you let me slowly die….

In your sin?

K. Aldaya, 4/25/16

Picture: http://favim.com/image/35911/