Lamp Post






Lit the lamps on the parks, the dark is approaching. Ombre, as seen from horizon, amazes the empty souls. I can't take but to appreciate the death of the day and enjoy the resurrection of the night. Wind went silenced, seems like something wrong is going to happen, suspicious, frightening.

Deafening silence, strange migration of fowls as seen from here. The stars reappear but some did not made it tonight.

Night lights begin to entertain people temporarily. Souls of different hue flocked to busy streets on their way home. Their colors painted the dusk, some are sure, some are not. Some just live, some knows to jive. Some don't care, some are anxious. Some seems tired, some still thrive. Those people, they are at the extremes of brightness and sharpness. Light for warm, dark for cold.

Cold breeze breaks my bones, I need a sweater for my own, no one can provide it, I hate to ask someone to do it for me. But can you please accompany me this evening? And just walk around til morning. All went wrong this day, can you be my song in this voiceless air?

Wait, is it just me? I thought I saw you there with that familiar silhouette. It's clear to me now that I'm just desperate to see you again, helpless, wrecking.

And here, under this sort of vintage lamp, I'm chasing my breath, but my feet just stand still. Found a bench to contemplate life, quench my soul by watering it with self-love.



written by: Oryang Bonifacio

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