Posted: March 17, 2012 by arjaybylah in Uncategorized


by: Alyzza Junett Cabuenas 

As this candle burns,

Words be born and burst.

Vanish then dead little urns,

Let’s see where the tear drops first.


The fire goes high as it dance with the silent air,

Capture something fair, ‘cause it bounds to be unfair.

Beneath is a piece of little hiding,

But great as its color illuminating.


No one gets what these hands creeds,

No one hears what these silent sighs screams.

But the broken starts to fix her own deeds,

Hoping to light, awaken, and chase her dreams.


The night grows old as the light goes deep,

Still remain the passion’s grip.

Surrounded by darkness, there’s more to unfold,

But tears never come first, instead hope to elusively hold!


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