Beyond words
beyond feelings
beyond music
beyond, you.

Soaking into words
seemed sillier than plunging into water
the lake in the twinkling moonlight.

Beyond words
that I could imagine
the artistry in your eyes
to tell you
how wonderful
the flowers
the lush pastures
the wild greenflies
of the forest.

Beyond feelings
the untouchable kisses
of the moonlight
beaming into the pond
How spectacular?
To look at the wet lilies
lying there it found its tranquility.

Beyond music
the harmony of the crickets
the birds' songs moaning
into the midnight
finding some nests
to have rest
beauty isn't the perfect phrase
that drives it sufficiency
to understand its hymns.

Beyond you
peering at the dear sky
the blueness of your existence
makes it heavier
to lose the sight
of the awe-struck
lips that I couldn't pick up
what you were telling.

My heart-beat echoing yours
it was beyond paint
beyond melodies
of how I wish to define the place
the feelings,
the sonnets,
and you.

Memoirs can be abandoned,
her empty heart
is what drives her strong
just like what she covers,
in her face.

Ghosts of their shadows
spelled out in her grip
call upon them like a spirit
that desires to be summoned.

She was standing amid the ghost town,
there she was closing her eyes
stomach churning,
when she recognized him.

They were glaring at each other
who will triumph?
It was that vie
of whom should move first, “I still love you”

He spoke with a smirk —
her thoughts are like the battleground
“Should I trust him?”
She called for her shadow,
only the beeping noise
of the cricket's songs
can be drawn in the area.
She grappled to resist the cracks
frightened, it will shower like raindrops.

He threw that stifle laugh
a natural one she couldn't ignore
he attempts to contain
the rushing vessels
that forced them to be one.

They tried to settle in the present
left the Ghost Town
of their oppressed minds
imprisoned
the aged allure
at the back of their heads.

Maybe this way will work,
and they don't have to fight anymore.

Stars are meant to find us — it follows our every step
together with the strings attached;
we were meant for more.

Stars are the happiest when it is night,
moon's shadow
makes it more
beautiful than ever.

I shivered when you touched my hair — I drew invisible maps
in your palm,
this is our little secret.

If the seas separated us
and crowd's demeaning noise — these stars were meant to find us,
these maps will draw you near to me.

Stars are the happiest when it is night,
moon's shadow
makes it more
beautiful than ever.

Your hands brushed mine — for the last time
cherishing a few moments — every minute is important.

I kissed your forehead and my eyelids closed — while your body vanishes in front of me — until it left me hugging myself in the crisp night of December.

Alone in this dear night
promising me an empty tomorrow — maybe it will lead me to something hopeful.

Stars are the happiest when it is night,
moon's shadow
makes it more
beautiful than ever.

I turned around — only my footsteps can break the silence — into the last bitter night of December.
These maps will bring you to me.

Until we meet again.

Hello again, midnight thoughts — hello to your companion
agony and woe;
hello to you, Kalinaw
my serenity.

The hasty torrent hailed me
of loneliness
of doubt
of uncertainty
yet it wasn't till midnight
it was ten o'clock.

I was glancing at the sky — the conspicuous moon was the only view in the dreary night of
fresh October
and the vapors appearing — I rubbed my breast,
it seemed bare and crushed in spirit
I was scribbling then — inside my head.

Even though
even if — I don't know
I don't even know
where to turn,
where to find —
Kalinaw,
you are the placid,
the Supreme Being.

When all else is a turmoil — a chaos
a between and between
a two term
seized with fear of the unknown.

You are all I could hold on to
Kalinaw — serenity
calm and peaceful.

Hello again midnight thoughts
I was here outside — peering at the sky
it wasn't blue
it wasn't apt
but it was bleak
for the night has occurred.

Shifting figures from ten to eleven
an hour away before you show up, then — why are you so soon?
That is why I called her — “Kalinaw, I need you.”

Here she comes
oasis amid the departed night — where thoughts are thirsty
they strike the place like minds empty;
where no one is serene.

Hello then, for the last time — midnight thoughts
at last,
it drifted from eleven to twelve
now is the moment — to call her again.

“Kalinaw, he was here again.”

The ocean is calling
all we did was paint
another love story untold,
another beginning
that ends with you and me.

Another goodbye.

It was a night of April
where the sea knew every lie
you told and I was sitting by the seashore
alone.
The ocean keeps calling,
should I go with them?

It was the last week of April
where revelations were good
like a broken record
ringing in my ears —
I couldn't sing anymore.

I waited till May
but even shadows of you
couldn't be seen, the moon is brighter
that I reminisce your crooked smile
that I miss having by my side.

I could not calm the waves
I hummed our song
you were the missing piece
the sea is finding, where are you?

It was a fool of me
to stick around and linger
I hope for your presence
I even wish
to the falling star
I couldn't miss wishing you'd be here.

You can tell me everything
all the secrets
all the misery
all the past and the present
I'd still listen
to your melodies
coming from your guitar —
it keeps getting darker.


That I couldn't see the ocean
I couldn't hear its call — where are you?
The summer is almost over.

The ocean is calling me
into the wide and dark
mystery.
I am falling in its trap,
will you not come and save me?

The ocean, the moon, the starry night,
it was all I remember.

May.
I painted this last piece,
I peered around the room and saw you
observing such magnificent art.

I smiled,
it was the last memory of us, I even laugh
for I compared you to every piece
hanging around the room.
You told me,
"I'm different than the rest, even I don't stand out,"
you smiled and there,
the ocean called me to wake up.

To wake up
wake up.
Wake
Up.

We were lying on the seaside
where shells clank and make music to our ears
and the ocean who calls unto me.

I leaned towards your way,
all I can look at was
stardust in your eyes —
even words couldn't justify.

Love was here beside me
hanging for another rising
the night is luminous
the ocean is whistling.

Waves, the soothing sound
that creates melodies, I hummed
and you strummed your guitar.

“The moon is fascinating,”
You said and  I laughed,
your eyes twinkled
like sparks upon sparks
and I called you,
love.

We were both giggling
the echo of it was lulling.
The pieces I am finding
at last, it was now beside me.

“You know, I will always bring you here,”
You whispered
like you were so certain — it secured my wall
like it will never fall.

So, I was stuck with a smile — it was a fresh March
and our affection was like summer
it never ends until spring.

“Hey, look, the moon's beautiful tonight.” He said to the woman lying beside him.

By the lake, at two in the dawn. He flips the rock, and it docked in the water—creating an enormous sound to crush the ghostly silence, where they rest amid the fallen woods and the hidden lake.

He chuckled and turned to her side and smiled.

“You are such a beauty, Delilah.” He pinches her cheeks and scoured her silky black hair.

The fireflies that prowl around lit up the whole area. They wandered and buzzed into the quietness of the forest. The shadows of the blue lake mirrored the pastel of the moon.

It was such a captivating scene for them both.

But a tear escapes her lips, and he dried it with his palm. “You will be all right in time, Delilah.” He reassured her.

There she was, lying in silence. Eyes are cold and dead. He gazes from where Delilah was so engrossed in to—there he closed his eyelids; hoping the spirit would just drift and fade. She was in her bare feet, with blood splattered across her dress woven in a white long garment; a smile painted—loneliness was caught in a glimpse of her.
Shadowed by the blue lake—the moon's lighting out her face.

“Please, let me go.” She pleaded and disappeared.

He turned to his side and grasped her lifeless body—her bones are digging up the outside—her eyes are swollen and blood dried her lips.

His cracking voice was the only music the black allowed to play in the deafening cacophony of trees wavering—this is where he met Delilah, a beauty in the storm. But her time was short-lived—yet with joy.

He danced with her amid the buzzing fireflies and the lake's clear water, while the sirens beneath were singing for them.

“Now, you have discovered the elegance of the moon. I can now let you go.” He mourned in silence and pecked her on the forehead.

“Goodbye, Delilah. The moon's beautiful tonight.”