170. The End is Near I Fear

My hand…look…fast is waning,

No more refrain from word-straining.

For the end swiftly approaches.

Expressionisms flow, in draining,

For sorrow encroaches.

Oh, how steady on its’ course,

We lose and then regain our source.

But hence I fear it will ne’er return,

Dripping-composure off-course,

May have no yearning to return.

K. Aldaya, 9/27/05

31. Tired

I’m so tired.

Tired of being sad.

Tired of being mad.

Tired of crying.

Tired of trying.

Tired of thinking, feeling, and understanding.

I wish I were happy, joyful, and lively, but tired is all I am.

I’m just so tired.

Please…please…someone make this end!

I can’t take this anymore,…this life.

I feel empty and tired.

Just so very, very tired.

K. Aldaya, 9/21/02

In the dark depths of night.

My mind wanders tonight,

To a place where none can reach, without the candles dying light.

In the cold arena of night,

My thoughts take flight,

To a place that few know of where tears reduce sight.

In the starry-skied night,

My sadness gains height,

To a place that’s near, but seems so far,

Where things are set right…,

If only for the night.

K. Aldaya, 4/02