I.
It was three days and two nights that series was cut,
Maybe characters are resting while cameras were shut,
Did the secrets of her man unlocked by any chance?,
Or did he choose to leave her to find another girl to dance?
II
Until one night he's with her while she was totally crying,
The moments are exciting, it's my lights have been waiting,
What would be the climax of tonight's story or what would be it's end?
I'm always praying as a light post that gods may favor for them to mend.
III
This series of tonight is not so ordinary,
As a light post in the dark this is my first time to see this,
She is crying for marriage what a shameful lady,
While he keeps pushing her away from his own body.
"It was just a mistake, I am not ready!" he's screaming angrily,
And at the middle of the night she's crying so loudly.
My visions seen her on bended knees while he's standing still,
But still can't infer tonight's series of Shakespeare.
Oh! what a poor light post, didn't get it: I didn't get it,
Can owls with an apple help me in this night's story.
IV
It was a minute of mourning and weeping like an after-war scene,
'Til he cried so loudly and together they're now singing,
An awful song of heartaches that all lyrics didn't blend,
Shall I pray to have a rainfall to perfectly serenade?
V
When she stands firmly while he's on his knees he's weeping,
Inside she's bearing an angel, with my own lights I've seen,
Then the memoirs of yesterdays have come into my senses,
The result of their young love is not a curse but a gift.
Oh Light Post in the dark your prayers were not answered,
The witnesses may be laughing and making fun of you,
Shall I pray to depart? or shall I pray for the next part?,
If only I could foresee the next chapter with my own light.
VI
It's the first time that I saw her left him with my light,
With his knees he pleaded looking up to my sight,
"Let this night be a nightmare, let it not be a reality."
How I wish I could answer and say "life is not a fantasy".
VII
I'm a light post in the dark, gratified with the gift I've seen,
Though the young lovers are mourning to the gods I'm praying,
"My prayers are not perfect but the heavens will always be,
Let the will of the Highest be happen unto thee."
YOU ARE READING
TINGOG!
PoetryTINGOG is a bisaya language which means VOICE. I made this to create a compilation of my poems not just to express my thoughts but also to inspire others especially those who are rowing the same boat with me. This is not yet a product of a great a...
