Maynila

Those who are born with roses in their eyes..

The beauty of the metropolis they will behold
Deaf to the city’s breathless sighs,
and the melancholic wailing of the bulwarks
left dying along with the palace’s innards.

A cold, black floor is the bed of the reality
The suffocated tree- the roof the city can provide.
And though blue collars roam the streets daily,
it is the songs of cars that is our lullaby.

That Day.

 Image

When the day comes,
I will be a traveler.
Scouring the world for the Truth.
When the day comes,
I will be a healer.
For those whose words lay unspoken.
When the day comes.
I won’t look back.
I shall not stop walking further.
When the day comes.
I will be a writer.
Of sunsets and midnights.
And happily ever afters.

If the day comes.
I will be prepared.
My pencils are sharpened, my paper bare.
If the day comes
I will be happy
To see the world as it should be seen
If the day comes
I will not stop running.
Til my shadow is lost
And my soul is serene.
If the day comes
..

But until then,
I will sleep on the earth,
Living safely in my head.