sa tunog ng tambol,
iyong hinawakan ang aking nanginginig na mga kamay
at sa gayo'y mapawi
ang damdaming puspos sa dalamhati
ang bawat pagtibok
aba'y mistulang pulso dala ng aking puso
kasing lakas ng pagkulog ng mga ulap
kasing tulin ng paruparong lumilibot sa hangin.
maligayang apatnapung araw ng pagmamahal, aking irog
The clouds move slowly in their cruise along the sky,
gentle hues of yellow seeping through the cracks and crevices.
I open the jar, in which lies an ant—
suspended through time, encased in the beckoning dunes of sweetness which caused its own demise.
is it really possible to die of sweetness?
I look up the sky, the very same vast expanse of sugary white and blue and yellow
trusted by countless men to their own demise.
perhaps too much sweetness is
hi im new lol pls be gentle
— The End —