Illustration by Katrina Dagdag
Chapter 1: Illusive Spring
First spring, where I met cold tailwinds brew
beneath a season where everything began new.
But the cruel world did not change for the good and for I,
just only one respite on the hill’s peak no further where I lie.
No sound nor whisper flowed past the eyes that gazed beyond,
Only a shade of a woman loomed, blocking the sun that dawned.
A stature of one devoid and lost in her own shadow,
A damsel crowned with flowers amidst a thorny meadow.
Our hearts twisted as I run beyond to thee
A race between heart and mind to a world I have yet to see,
And as I shouted her name, a joyous face I turn,
only for her to give a saddened gaze in return.
Silent I was when I stared at her eyes filled with might,
screaming without a voice as her sorrow came to light.
She watched as I carry the banner where her devil sleeps sound,
Asking dares and insults as she cried names of the damned out loud.
Her face grieved again between a grave under a deceitful mask,
holding her chin high, with courage fading away when she asked: "Why?!"
Terrible! her gaze was, as she spit down on the flag I wore.
Pointing and cursing at its majesty for its why her lamenting pain was so.
Brazen words stormed as she casted me away, and dareth she say: "Begone!"
as her anger and scorn all became one.
A flair and flicker of her brilliant innocence shone in the night,
where the voices of the ignorant and whispers took flight.
But, lest I say words from the wrath she sought,
I stood my ground as I answer back where my freedom was fought.
She stood blank, as her mind was relieved.
for she was sure I was no monster she was taught to believe.
CHAPTER 2: Baleful Creed
Hollow cries, desperate wails, a boat of grief drifting on sail,
among the endless winds to ignore and hide a heart so frail.
As I reach into an empty mind, a soul suddenly wished to rest and tell
the horrid and broken story of someone born from the earthen hell.
Whence it started came unknown for all memories she bore are of sorrow,
all fogged by a doubtful heart that questioned a better tomorrow.
Staring back, over the hollow and shallow joys of a once golden age,
how is it now a race to end someone’s chapter by a single page?
History drawn to a wicked and cursed thread weaved by an old will,
where time stood still as soldiers with the same faces bled on the same earth,
howling cries of a fallen friend as time slowed and came still,
repeating a mother’s hush to them when life’s cradle had fallen first.
Withered leaves fall astray plucked by their own kin without faith
beneath the bitter cold biting those who believed in luck and fate,
as it was a wish to the world for an explanation over a mindless slaughter
from the sisters whose spirits slowly beginning to falter.
Statures and wealth rose to the sky proud and high,
Casting shadows beneath a hill with splendid horror.
While the rich and folly cast the golden reins over a sweetened lie,
The young fought their wars beneath the heel to satisfy them more.
A tired gaze caught the image of the darkened skies,
a cast of hands holding the strings of their puppets dancing over the fool’s dice,
as stories of old were never new: where many saw fields full of life to reap,
served as leisure for people who took spoonful’s from a sugar heap.
Her eyes narrowed in fear as engines of war above took lead,
fire and smoke came by as trees and walls crumble,
stretching through lands where none are buried no different than a helpless noble.
All in the name of a creed we have sworn and forced to heed
CHAPTER 3: A Place to Stay
Passing by a month of cinder and falling ash beneath the once green canvas,
Blotting memories of life within a dark haze of the minds of thousands en masse,
All were a terrible melancholy of how the old view the visions of heaven
In a hellscape of whom the devil’s cup is filled with the blood of the young and brazen.
Sitting idly, an unnamed woman watches as chaos unfold beneath the hill,
Hollow shells flew left and right, how fitting it is to be fired by the those who are lifeless,
Unknown to them if every bullet they cast was an arrow empowered by their will,
Or a revelation to a life of irony that would one day reap innocence to rest.
Countless seconds of stupor reigned and cycled between foreign land,
where no victors lie, only nameless victims forgotten in time buried in ashen sand.
The same could be said when she turned her head, a gaze of pure starlight,
Burning away reason to uphold a vision of a single star under a moonless night.
Cold hands, her injured soul crossed paths with another heart broken,
The dreams of a woman and a mother to her land were all naught
Against the black abyss of fate that were already seamed and woven
By the very tyrants that promised us solace if we fought.
The woman leaned towards another shoulder, her mind resting within dark skies
Finding answers for her sorrow that loomed within infinite lies,
Carrying the ashes of herself towards the grave of another’s urn
Watching herself fade away within a point of no return.
A gentle nod and a crying shoulder was all she needed, to know she was not alone,
Who walked and strayed against the wishes of the old and frightened.
Without anything to give back to the world, apologies are not enough to atone
For the countless times we knelt down and bent, instead of standing to defend.
Many had laid their lives all in the name of hollow promises and lies
Of those who wished us respite against the tides of ash and cinder
How foolish of us to think they were real when it’s against our bare eyes,
A place to stay, where a bed of dirt and mud lie six feet under.
CHAPTER 4: Adversary’s Love
How terrible, how naïve of me to think poetry is the only language of love,
When it could be anything as simple as heads drifting in the stars above.
Like Tranquil minds against the storm below, an earnest bond was finally made
To remember and cherish a moment we couldn’t from old times sake.
Lest it to be only two stars shining under the moon’s silver shade,
Our eyes turned to the innocent souls whose ambitions and hopes that fade,
Be given light in word and voice as their gleaming hearts soar
As they wondered within their final moments: Was it all worth fighting for?
Etched graves filled with an array of life and beauty, the same given to all
By the woman I started to love when she stood by saluting the clarion's call.
It is because I know her heart would forever watch the living in mind,
All for them to never know what it is to suffer a fate of those left behind.
Her shine is a beacon for the lost who crossed a stray path of their own,
A reminiscence of the rewards they had long forlorn, a path back to the light
Of what simmers of morning dew felt like when none are alone,
And the fragrant and everlasting scent of an embrace when love peaks at night.
One look, eyes darting to that very something and someone you love most,
Is a calm breeze everyone waited for as they charge into the storm of doubt,
And for the few that remained, only those who looked back could only boast
of ever finding what others couldn’t, unwavering all throughout.
The guiding light when she extended her helping hands to someone kept in dark,
What a rare sight it is, when you compare it over the world’s nature and value,
From whence her love came, its embrace left much to all such as I with a mark,
Of how it could exist on someone as torn as you?
Perhaps it is all in our minds, and our selfish thoughts clouds your purpose,
As we are fed with lies and deceit, we couldn’t help but doubt the goodness you lay.
But as the world marches forward, I want to let you know another sun did rose
Within the garden of thorns, you’ve carried our aimless souls back in their way.
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