324. Tragedy Incarnate

I am the ghost of who I used to be,

Who is haunting this world now, for eternity.

I’ve lived a million lifetimes. I feel it in my bones;

The aching of sore fingers spent manuscripting tomes.

Stories of humanity… of tragedies and victories;

Of poverty and destruction. Wealth and vanities.

Will the story ever end? And what will be it’s ending?

I’m tired of thinking and repeating. My soul needs time for mending.

You and I, we are the story of the universe.

We’ve written it out, in our blood accursed.

Will time end and its’ confines of aching bone and skin.

Prisoners: most ignorant of the cage we continue to live in?

We all write on…another chapter for the universe to read;

So it can expand endlessly, while we (mere) mortals just bleed.

Bleed planets, and bleed the stars…Our souls are etched with the scars,

Of the universes’ beauty;

Written on each gravestone, and carved from fleshly duty.

K. Aldaya, 12/16/15

Picture: By Michael Lloyd ; http://www.lightstalking.com/the-shark-tank-and-what-you-missed-this-week-on-light-stalking/

309. You (Yes, You) Are Special

I’ve heard it said many times before,

That life has no point and that therefore,

People are dust and to dust they return;

And there is nothing more.

I refuse to believe that this is right,

And I’m probably a fool to hope outright,

That people have spirits, and spirits they’ll be,

When on winds their dust takes flight.

You are the first and the last, in the end.

You exist and there is no need to defend…

Your reason for being, or what makes you special;

For your life is a miracle, my friend!

In all the universe. In all time and space.

There will only ever be one you with that face:

To feel the sun, and to ponder the stars.

A precious new form of the perplexing human race.

K. Aldaya, 6/29/15

Picture: Photographer Unknown; Uploaded by Veinalldum on 7-themes.com; http://7-themes.com/7008550-mood-girl-kid-joy-happiness-photo.html

279. Elegy of the Fairy

Leather-bound, embossed with theme.

A fairy’s tale expressed in dream.

What will be the lesson gleaned,

From ancient tears: imbruing sanguine?

Time passes, and on life passes.

On and on she counted the masses;

As they rose and fell ’round her grove,

The fairy, on and on she wove.

She sang and wove a requiem,

Suspended in time in a delirium.

Her voice echoed through times’ void,

Until the universe was destroyed.

And on the shelf of a newborn ‘verse,

There rests a leather-bound tome of verse;

Which when opened weeps it’s elegiac-song.

As woven into flesh the soul’s of the throng,

For eternity unceasingly sing on.

K. Aldaya, 11/1/14

Picture: “Old Book” by Todd McKimmey: https://www.flickr.com/photos/toddmckimmey/; http://www.toddmckimmey.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/01/2010_01_05_old_book_2x3.jpg