The mighty winds and the deep blue sky

Don’t do any good, for my will to die.

My shallow grave adorned with roses red,

Whose thorns can prick, blood be shed.

    Thinking of death is nigh the only escape foe me.

Darker the skies now, pours out the rain,

Watch them wash out the old blood stain,

Sepulchres, these decaying tombs

Where all ends the product of a mother’s womb.

      What will you do if you’re dealing with death, like me?

My life is short and I know so well,

That soon I will be leaving this useless shell.

This God-crazed world, I am sick of it,

Don’t you tell me I am wrong, what do you know?

I am in pain more than you’ll ever know

I am weak to defend the one I love most.

I have lost all the things I held dear in my heart

And worst of all I am dying inside.

Why must I ever be a mere mortal man,

Unable to undo my mistakes?

B1tch is the fate that first turned me down

God knows I am dying inside…

Suddenly, everything is starting to fall right back to its rightful place, including thus my heart.

My heart is still bleeding from the fact that I am not seeing much of my beloved half-brother as I would like to, and it has been hurting me since that he’s getting trapped between my stubborn pride and my step-mother’s evil ways. I wouldn’t explain this any further.

But then, my luck too has been changing dramatically. Yes, although I have recently lost something I value, I gained something of a higher value instead.

Honesty pays off too, because I refuse to hide things again and yes, I could endure all the arching eyebrows and malicious whisperings because after all, they couln’t hurt me physically.

I have been always hoping for this, and maybe this is it.

I pray to God, that I’m done searching.

The sound that a silk skirt makes as it rubs along nylon stockings  could be heard clearly throughout that room, shushing saucily with the annoying tiptap of stiletto heels on the marble floor.  "Why me ?" you ask myself inwardly.  "Because you’re prettier than the two of us," your friend Michelle said, and that was  the happy thought you carried preparing for this day. Yes, you are taller than both Michelle and the barely five feet Babylyn, and yes, you have a much fairer skin, and yes, your English is almost flawless, and yes, you believe them. Flattery clouds mental judgement.

Naglipana sa aking gunita,

Mga piraso ng tagpo

Sa ilalim ng akasya

Sa panahon ng kalayaan

Panahon ng kagitingan.

Naaninag ko ang panibugho

sa iyong mukha

Sumpa sa mga tulad kong dukha

Isang sampal sa aking pagkatao

minsang sinambit

Ang pangakong sa akin

minsang ipinilit.

Di mawari kung bakit

gayong layon ang ninais,

Ito ngayon ay dahilan

ng aking mga hinagpis.

At doon sa ilalim ng mg apunong akasya,

puso’t pangarap ko ay nailibing na.

(masaya ka na ba? masaya bang makitang nahihirapan ako? ayoko na.  utang na loob, ayoko na.)

A few years ago, back when I was in college, I was with two girl friends and we were in this posh cafe talking about the sweet story of this friend of a friend’s fulfilled dreams of finally meeting her Prince Charming.  "Oh, I wonder when my Prince Charming would ever come? I imagine him stooping down his white Arabian horse to catch me and save me from all these heartaches," my friend said dreamily.  A little girl not more that ten at least, turned to face us from the table they were occupying with what I think was her nanny.  In that small little girl’s voice, and in the unblemished knowledge of youth she said "Why wait for your Prince Charming?  Why not just grab yourself a fine white horse and look for him?"   

Brat.  We thought.

But now I realized that she does have a point.  I am turning 23 this year and has never been in any relationship that actually lasted a year.  I am not getting any younger, and I couldn’t always start at level one.  And if Prince Charming couldn’t be charmed out of the wormhole he’s in then I have to dig him out of there.

However, I’ve also realized that I am not exactly the "Beautiful Princess" in the story.  That I am just an ugly duckling.  Also, because of the example of love I’ve witnessed in my lifetime, primarily from my parents, that I am this brazen playmate carrying the cold wretched heart of the Ice Queen.  Now I ask myself, have I ever been really in love?  Infatuation that somehow turned into an obsession but not love. The Light of Verona is my obsession. Love? I’m afraid love eludes me.

So here am I searching for Prince Charming the way I have learned how to.

What to do, if I find myself nearing 30s without having met my Prince?  Then I must be happy with my lot as a spinster then.    Sad thought, but realistic enough ne?

Her eyes are black, the midnight sea,

Her hair, a sooty cloud

Her  voice, the winds of fantasy

Her hair like fire–  are proud.

I could not help but watch her

As beneath the moon she  danced

She swirled, she casted, she conjoured

She sang a mystic chant.

She soared into his soul that night

the starry sky her wings.

She whispered secrets in his dreams

and spoke of sacred things

In his mind she entranced him,

The element, her command

She wields a power over him

His heart  lies in her hands.

For her, he’s cross the universe

For her, he’d swim the sea

But what would an enchantress want

With a simple man as he?

She  came and said "I love you

And likely always will."

His heart, he pledge forever more

To the witch upon the hill.

(*to  the victims of 1969’s Salem trial*)

July 7, 1801

Though still in bed my thoughts go out to you, my
Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then
sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear
us. I can live only wholly with you or not at all—
yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from
you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am
really at home, send my soul enwrapped in you
into the land of spirits.—Yes, unhappily it must be
so—you will be the more resolved since you know
my fidelity—to you, no one can ever again possess
my heart—none—never—Oh, God! why is it
necessary to part from one whom one so loves and
yet my life in Vienna is now a wretched life—your
love makes me at once the happiest and the
unhappiest of men—at my age, I need a steady,
quiet life—can that be under our conditions? My
angel, I have just been told that the mail coach
goes every day—and I must close at once so you
may receive the L. at once. Be calm, only by a
calm consideration of our existence can we
achieve our purpose to live together—be calm—
love me—today—yesterday—what tearful longings
for you—you—you—my life—my all—farewell—Oh
continue to love me—never misjudge the most
faithful heart of your beloved L.

ever thine
ever mine
ever for each other

i htae the wlord taody!!! i do not wnat to lvie aynrome!

I thought that life has always been fair,

Until the time I realized you were no longer there

No longer beside the desk I remember you occupy.

Fate is such a bitchy one to guide you by.

                    Gone, eh?  Gone to where exactly?

                    Betcha you’re just afraid of me.

I thought that all days are the same

Until the day you got on that train,

Then I said, you’re better off gone

Than you seeing my walls get undone.

                    I am broken, torn and miserable

                    I think I finally lost my soul.

I thought that I am stoic and indifferent

But then to the sway of emotions I bent

On the day you went away on that train

I cried as much as an August rain.

                    But then you’re better gone than stay,

                    At least I can keep my sanity today.

***To the Light of Verona