Nabasa ko kay Oriang Bonifacio

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 aro...

I always find myself looking at the windows, which for me is a symbol for hope and patience. Be it a window in a bus on a trip or a glassless window in our home, I always find myself staring blankly outside waiting for contingency---but nothing happened. How can you stare to a window so hopeful and at ease if you can only see raging waves of hypocrisy, bruising rays of inequalities, and even stone-hearted apathy. Your glance to a window full of enthusiasm is always at risk and consumed. You may even get exhausted to take a second look and you wish you haven't seen what you saw. The world rotates cruelly to people who only wishes to be good, who only wishes to live in harmony and peacefully but the world is not contented to only bring scourge to disadvantaged people, it entertains itself by making fun of fishes trying to survive the current of the storm surge. Things get smaller when you look from a window, things that you wish you can touch and change its course, things ...

Undistinguished Guest People are like the sky during sunset and sunrise They are ambiguous Mysterious You can't guess what they want you to see in them You'll never know if they like you to be with them You see the shade of the sky From the illuminated side To the darker side Monochromatic But strokes are striking Dawn discloses its lighter part to the line where the sky kisses the earth Same as to dusk Sunset never allow you to reach its dark side It's always far, and will never abide Just like what we see in sunrise Sky paints itself It amazes us every millisecond With shades of different identity With clouds of sincerity filled with secrecy Wonder how hard for people to hide their real faces Detaching and leaving with no traces