A Lullaby

Power

”How the mighty hath fallen.”

I said this to the man.

His body was adorned with gems

It looked pure alone, but under his they are lower than dirt.

.

Before me was the lord of the fief

Once I had idolized him

But that was before he robbed me of my family

And my feelings as a human being.

.

I thought that power could save me

So I picked up his post

Terrorizing the land

Orders and whip lashes

And finally, I gained what I need.

But now

Decades had passed

Jewellery clothed me

Maidens had been ravaged by me

The citizens’ smiles were sweet

Life is good

Yet my heart didn’t agree, laying only still.

.

Suddenly my vision became red

Voices came, but only from my mouth

It wasn’t words, it wasn’t pleads of beg or help—

but indescribable yelps.

.

Then I was laid on a wooden platform

A thin long metal loomed over me.

I looked at the people

Their faces still wore the same mask

.

Smiling but yet laced with contempt

And revenge.

.

I tilted up my head, my eyes following, as far as I can go.

.

I realized

Even with the behaviour they showed

And jeers whenever they opened their lips

I had felt nothing.

.

As if, ever since, nothing had changed.

.

”Oh how the mighty hath fallen.”

Then I felt myself disconnect.

Domeville

She thought magic was a phony.

That is until she’s at the mercy of humanoid creatures with stitched body parts that belongs to creatures-not-human, crowding around her with curious gazes. Her skin prickled from the contact. She took a shallow breath as more gathered around her.

Black spots began to cover her sight. She felt a drop in her stomach.

Space I need space! She breathed again, more venomously— “Stop..” no one heard her though. Her throat tighten, “Stop! Please!” That gave some of them a reaction. One of them screeched. They flinched.

Everyone, including her, followed the sound. A black robe with a glowing pumpkin as a head, soundlessly looking at her as he spoke, “—“

She didn’t understand but neither did she care. She looked at it with pleading eyes. It nodded and continued speaking at the creatures. With unusual obedience they took a step back.

She took a mouthful of air, her throat dry. Her tense shoulders relaxed. Looking at the robe man she mouthed a reply before her eyes fluttered shut, “Thank you.”

She only heard faint murmures after that.

“It will take you when Domeville was the greatest clowns of halloween.”

She didn’t think her aunt was telling the truth.

Her eyes wandered at the time. It’s midnight. Standing at the clock she got as a present she waited.

Nothing happened.

With a low heart she went to bed, not noticing the rapidly ticking clock.

She looks at her surroundings, her eyes sharp. Wooden walls, old chimney, closed curtains, and sturdy mattress. The door only handful of feet apart.

Where am I?

A low tone interrupted her thoughts. “Did you forget?” She swirved her head to the sound, founding the robed man. “..No.” I didn’t hear him. He must’ve seen something from her face as he chuckles, “I have no feet.”

How did he—she looked at the ground where the robed man’s feet was supposed to be. Her heart faltered. There’s none.

This man’s dangerous.

“See?” He said.

“...”

“Not much of talker are you?”

She didn’t respond. The robed man sighed, gliding to the door, “Come here—It’s not anything bad,” He added quickly as she took a stance. “I just wanna show you something. You might like it.”

A paused before she followed, her body still cautious. We’ll see.

The door opens, momentarily mesmerizing her.

“Wha—“

Orange colored lights all over the village streets, the night empathizing it more, with simple pastries cluttering the tables, and animated humanoid creatures with excited looks. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted ghouls and spirits joining the fun.

Beside her, the pumpkin man turned to her as his eyes glowed, “Welcome Katy, to DomeVille Halloween!”

The promise of repetition

Is a weak peace of mind,

Dangling like the balance

Of rickshaws,

Shared one and two-ways

Derailing thoughts

To the station tracks for long

And then, and then

…

.

The promise of repitition

Is of no reprieve from

Moans of limbs

As you hung on the mountain, the

Little helper a rope on your waist

And with the stopper

Called friend,

A human;

A dog;

A cat;

A plant;

A memory;

A sentiment;

A friend;

.

…A person.

.

Repitition is of a phase—

Should be a phase,

For staying in limbo

Bears lightness

No person could take

Without risking all

For the sake of

Finding

A peace.

A Sip

Licking wounds

from the already

faded but still

reddened cheeks.

It‘s the eyes,

the twitch

of the

brows to the

muscles of the

mouth—

.

I can see it talk.

I can hear it speak.

I can feel many thoughts.

but maybe it

wasn’t.

.

A past is backward.

Did you ever took

a step forward?

Pen

Smooth Scratches, thin point

One to four, Black to rainbows

My, what a fine pen!

Villia Pangarap

Stores a-plenty, Blanket roofs

Sun-dried thugs, Long street—

To slide under a rainfall

Muffled

On a wall so paper thin it’s visible, I see

Clobber sounds I imagine comes when people walk, their footsteps heavy or soft depending on the pits of rain,

Trees fluttering, the sounds of crackles coming in faint rumbles,

Like the grass beneath but perhaps the feeling or warmth and softness is more apparent than whatever things I hear from it.

.

The sound-out groans, it moans in whistles,

Reminding me that things I described are things

I cannot hear behind where I am.

.

Yet I can imagine the echos the wind makes

When people walk, the thud and clobber the sounds of their shoes would make

The pitter-patter of rain, distinct

Sound of the sharp stream a car going past, motors screeching I fell more in

Curses rather than calm.

.

On a wall so paper-thin it’s visible, I hear and

Think, pictures aboard,

The muffled sounds of what a wind would speak

Humanity

<•>

One day a void was struck, turning limitless blue—

Then land began to pile above

Dots started to appear, both in the air, the ground, and the sea, moving and alive Dots turned bigger, shifting into the tallest, the smallest, or between.

Ecosystem began.

But even with that, all things must come to an end.

Take an example, the dinosaur age. When they were the loudest to roar, the king of all, they were weak—

Atleast, to mother nature that is.

Mountains began to move and the lushes of fields disconnect—

And then they were gone, we came about, taking the crown of the king in our heads. So it made me think; isn’t this the circle of life?

You live, you die, that’s what I mean.

Sometimes you might get remembered if people like your work, sometimes you’re just one of the many without a name or have a part of a legacy.

Even then we’ll be someday extinct.

I mean something similar happened before right? The bronze age and such?

But still we continue to muse, we continue to invent, innovating as much as we could get from both in and out. Heck even space came about!

Why?

It’s because of faith. We believe and blindly persist even with the answer we have and I say this;

Why not just continue? Even with the knife on our neck?

I mean we lived for more than ten thousand years, molding the simple phrase Live then die to the complicated There’s more than meets the eye.

I mean what’s there to lose? Live, live without a linger to regret!

Dear you,

.

Recognizing

Despair;

Depression;

Disappointment;

Dispassionate;

Determination;

Anger;

Happiness;

Love.

.

—To whom I put down these words

When described,

Could you

Tell me

The weight of the history

Each—no, all

Nouns that had 

been 

made(and continuing) expresses?

.

For I don’t know.

Yet I’m

Adamant in sharing

These

Common, large words, as

.

Addictive in my high

Of labelling, the power

I feel when I simply call

Them out, as

Using for my advocation, when reading

When writing, when recognizing, finally,

What am I truly saying.

.

I ask you, I beg of you

What is the weight of my words?

To them. To you.

.

.

Sincerely yours,

A surrogate child of your language

Describing Sweet Nothings

True to it

She was a form.

Subtle, gentle, and merely

A smooth, teasing

Motion.

.

She was beautiful,

For I see her

Eyes smilling in crescents

Or her nails were more deeper than

Her skin.

.

Juxtaposition to her tone

Her words clothed

In Red, pink, purple—a rainbow,

Colouring my thoughts

With its slow poison.