Photo by Raymond Vince Manaloto/THE FLAME


Beckoned by its abysmal towers

She trots into the ornate ravine 

Lost in her own delicate pitter patters

As the visage of her, paints dull skies

As the thought of her brings forth life


Gazing from their supposed soiree

Delicate tugs linger within her heart

Following the lead of its thundering sound

She finds another way, deeper into the ravine

Towards what only her ambiguity could fathom

Farther from her fickle-minded heart’s home


Raging winds bring about a signal

As raindrops take over rock-hard banisters

As umbrellas decorate drenched grounds

She remains unfazed, time ever passing

In their makeshift soiree, she remains


From the stubbornness of her heart

Among what’s left of her distorted visions 

Tears manage to wet dried banisters

Back in the avenue of beginnings

Back to the existence of nothing

It was only her that remained


To a distant laughter only she recognizes

To the ideas only she can give life to

To the void of her heart, she achingly tries to fill

May these mere visages keep her at bay

Until the ends of time 

In her little soiree, she will remain F

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