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Feb 2010 · 1.6k
Villain
Francis Ganuelas Feb 2010
I lit the fuse
I watch them fry 
Hoping that HE will show up tonight
HE will make things right
HE will try to catch me in flight

I lit the fuse 
I warm myself in the light
Hoping HE will answer my invite 
HE will start a fight
HE will certainly make my night

I lit the fuse 
I hear HIM come 
Hoping HE will oblige my insight 
HE brings with him justice 
HE brings with him light 

I lit the fuse
HE puts it out
I am his existence
HE is mine

I lit the fuse
HE puts it out
Hoping before HE leaves
He asks me


"Can we just do this over coffee next time?"
Feb 2010 · 725
The Reaper
Francis Ganuelas Feb 2010
At the brink of darkness, he welcomed me with open arms.

I was hesitant, i didn't want to lose it all now.

I was happy.

I was contented.

I was living my life the way i wanted to.

I was not ready to let it all go.

He was wise.

He saw through my weakness.

He wouldn't go back to the depths without his bounty.

He made me choose.

"DO YOU REALLY WANT TO LIVE?" he asked.

The answer was simple.

"AS YOU WISH. BUT I CAN'T GO BACK EMPTY HANDED."

I had nothing that he wanted.

In my silence he spoke.

"I'LL TAKE THAT INSTEAD" while pointing at my chest.

"Fine. I'll just find another one." i thought to myself.

It was radiant.

It was alive.

It was mine.

It was painful.

He ripped it out.

He left with it.

He didn't say a single word.

He let me live.

"Time to find another one" I said jokingly.

But i knew deep inside that it would be hard.

I didn't expect it to be impossible.

I felt empty.

I felt incomplete.

I felt nothing.

I felt that I've made the wrong choice.

Now i regret what have happened.

Now he would still get what he wanted.

I thought to myself, "I should've chosen this instead."

...
Feb 2010 · 807
Sing
Francis Ganuelas Feb 2010
i envy

those who sing
with their souls exposed,
for they are free
to hate the world...
screaming their anguish
in a melody
that rips through deafened hearts,
letting their tears flow
in harmony with words of despair...

I envy them

for they are heard,
emphatized by others
who have lost their identity
and found them in a song
that screams for help
disguised in hatred...

I envy them because

they are appreciated,
as every tune is felt...

they are loved,
as the song
reaches its final beat...

they are remembered,
as they echo through
the very being of
those who are touched

i envy them..

they are alive.
Francis Ganuelas Feb 2010
Emotionally shaken, the body crumbles as the tremors of reality breaks down every pillar and foundation of a structure that has had its share of countless births, childhoods, lives, and deaths and awaits to crush the dreams of an innocent passerby, unaware that his own being will in moments be crushed by an enormous debris of shattered hopes, that aims to make its mark even in its final gasps of air. A symphony of bass and discord that echoes through every wall and pavement alert those who give a **** and don't, and opens their eyes to the existence and now non-existence of two entities that once lived a life of irrelevance, and for seconds, minutes, hours, and days, their lives have finally found its meaning, making an imprint in the very ground they stood on and in the lives of those who have witnessed this miserable end.
Feb 2010 · 1.1k
The Heartbreaker
Francis Ganuelas Feb 2010
Contemplating,
I approached the cache that held my instrument of choice.

I reached for the ****.
It let out a creaking sound as I pulled it out of its solace.

There it is.

The haunting creak still echoes in the depths of my conscience.

"Is this the right thing to do?"
It slipped through my drowning consciousness
and escaped with my breath as I reached for the apparatus.
It was icy cold

and in seconds, I couldn't tell the difference between my own heart and... this object.
It was automatic, my arms rose with robotic precision.

I envied it for a second as it was just following its master's bidding.

I closed my eyes for the last time,
hoping that some divine intervention would stop me from what I was about to do.

But still the act proceeded.

The trigger was pulled.



Words are all that came out.



How lovely a pool of blood would have been that night.

— The End —