544. O’ Lucifer

You pushed and pushed again…

Over and over and over…*Amen*

You pray, “O’ Lucifer, Smite the Damned!”,

Becoming that with which you command.

You laughed and laughed again…

Over and over and over…*Amen*

This is the hell you’ve fashioned on Earth,

For those such as I, cursed from our birth.

You spit and spit again…

Over and over and over…*Amen*

Those who are living in hell will refuse,

To play along, for they’ll only lose.

You tricked and tricked again…

Over and over and over…*Amen*

It’s not safe as a human in hell…

Surrounded…Shh, there’s nothing to tell.

You struck and struck again…

Over and over and over…*Amen*

There is no trust,…No guardians,…No safety.

Hell is here,

And the demons,…of humanity.

K. Aldaya, 5/30/21

Picture: By Jon Tyson on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/epZp5y3wqcA

360. Who Will Weep for the Dead?

Who will mourn for the lost,

And who will weep for the dead,

When the tides of sinful lust,

Awash each virgin-bed?

Blood is spilt upon the earth.

Oh, the horrors of man’s greed!

Which never takes responsibility,

For it’s every bitter deed.

Scream in terror children!

The dead shall not be grieved!

Only the victims bare the pain,

Of the sins they have received.

Their cries echo in vain,

As the dead will not be heard.

It only drives them more insane,

With every closeted-word.

And who will mourn for the lost?

Who will weep for the dead?

For rather then listening to the truth,

Men grieve for their ears instead.

K. Aldaya, 7/7/16

Picture: http://www.survivingmold.com/news/2014/12/cirs-the-genetics/; http://www.survivingmold.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2034/11/Screaming2.jpg

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/

315. The Bed

The bed is made of lies and fire,

Though it does not burn to ash,

And upon it lies lustful desire,

And lost souls under lash.

Bodies burn engulfed in flame,

Forever stoking the blaze.

The babies, crawling, are the blame;

Igniting with their gaze.

The fire sparks from inside,

Childhood’s glowing domicile,

Of doors which lead to hell and abide,

In the darkness of denial.

The flames cannot be quenched with tears.

The fire once set, burns on.

For those in hell are the mutineers,

Who refuse to lie –and yawn,

And sleep in ignorance.

K. Aldaya, 8/3/15

Gif: “Fire” by Freaky–Like–Vivi on Deviant Art; http://freaky–like–vivi.deviantart.com; http://freaky–like–vivi.deviantart.com/art/Fire-350936436