Pied Piper


Art by Jeanne Pauline G. Tecson/THE FLAME

From the realm where I exist

You pulled me into a world devoid of reality

Once the clock strikes jarringly

Fireflies master the art of allure

Flowers embellish the vines with their glory

Iridescence overtakes the paths I cross

To which crickets of the dead of night

Compete with a newfound tune


I wasn’t afraid, I only listened to the sound of you

I only marveled at the way you made me move

Fleeing from the little amount of sense I have left

Rushing towards your hymn that I know is for me

You look back at me with your stone-cold eyes

With it is a sudden moment of epiphany

All that’s left of me, now devoid of anything worthy 


The clock strikes jarringly

You emerge from the claws of night

Your fireflies master the art of deception

Your vines cripple flowers from their usual bloom

Your shards of glass twinkle as they prick my feet

Ever sneering, through the bushes your sound seeps

Fleeing from the tunes of your now somber hymn

I’m entangled with your forest, baring what lies within 


On the edge of my dignity, you’ve chosen to punish me

The sweeter your tune sounds, the more bitter your eyes look

The more desperate I am, the more distant you become

On the edge of this cliff, I’ve chosen to hold on

Play your instrument for me

Until the very last drop of my sanity

I’ll trail behind you, relentlessly F

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