and I fin'lly understood
why among all
the hours of the day,

sunset has always been
the most breathtaking one.

Wala nang hihigit pa
sa paglayang natamo
matapos ang mahabang gabi
ng unang paglayang ipinagluksa-

ang paglayang inilaan
sa pagbitaw
sa mga ala-alang ipininta
kalakip ng pangakong
bukas,


higit ka nang laya.

And while women her age
walk down the aisles
teary-eyed in veils and flow'rs
adoring flashes wishes them the best,

she confidently ramps
along wide-eyed crowd
wishing they have
what she boldly has-

He had awaken the flame
that has been asleep
for all seasons gone
only to leave her
ice cold frost one moonlit night

but with a tiny
little hope to fate,
she counted drops
like how leaves fall
on cobblestones

She was left
clutching unto knife
pointing in her
iced stone heart

and though
she cries during
summer eves,
she made sure not to bleed
all winter days.

When a poet
holds his pen
and the composer
finds the perfect words
the painter mixed the shades
and the singer hit the notes

dearest,
that's when scars turn
into art.

I loved him,
but I am not inlove with him.

I was inlove with the idea
of loving him.

And now I miss the idea
of being inlove with him.