Even after the voices faded
Something stayed behind
A whisper within my thirsty soul
An elegant memory that still resonates
Through the hollow rooms of my heart
Even in the busiest crowd
That quiet voice lingers
Reverberating through my mind
Like a distant bell that refuses to fade
Then I realized
It was never the voice I cherished
But the soul behind it
The one that left an echo
On my heart and mind
Is this what love is---
An echo that remains
Long after the silence begins...
Breath grinds stone in the hollow chest,
time loops, cruel clockwork chewing marrow.
Each step refracts an endless cascade,
mirrors eating mirrors, swallowing meaning.
She watches herself dissolve, still walking,
hands trembling over undone buttons.
The walls bend inward, whispering static:
a language faceless, flat, unending.
Memory slits its own throat quietly,
bleeds until the air stinks of void.
Faces blur, cruel smudges framed in frost.
Fingers forget what they’ve once held.
The ceiling fractures, mercury spills night.
Dust coats the tongue, sour scripture of collapse.
Sanity laughs, teeth like shattered porcelain.
She screams and keeps on breathing.
Nothing stops. Nothing starts. Stillness spins.
Somewhere in the debris, she remains
a scream folded inside a name,
a self rusting softly in endless loop.
Breath grinds stone in the hollow chest,
time loops, cruel clockwork chewing marrow.
Each step refracts an endless cascade,
mirrors eating mirrors, swallowing meaning.
She watches herself dissolve, still walking,
hands trembling over undone buttons.
The walls bend inward, whispering static:
a language faceless, flat, unending.
"Echo without collapse"
Memory slits its own throat quietly,
bleeds until the air stinks of void.
Faces blur, cruel smudges framed in frost.
Fingers forget what they’ve once held.
"Echo without collapse"
The ceiling fractures, mercury spills night.
Dust coats the tongue, sour scripture of collapse.
Sanity laughs, teeth like shattered porcelain.
She screams and keeps on breathing.
Nothing stops. Nothing starts. Stillness spins.
Somewhere in the debris, she remains
a scream folded inside a name,
a self rusting softly in endless loop.
"Echo without collapse"
Do I deserve it?
Asked my heart within me.
But my voice was stuck.
Within the throat of insecurity.
Will the things change?
Questioned my soul beneath.
But my moments were paused.
Behind the sea of responsibility.
echo lingers softly in quiet air
holding breath of something almost said,
thoughts brushing lightly through my mind,
unfinished, reaching outward~
shimmer of becoming
trembling at the edge,
small and tender,
still forming
quiet
still
He said he loved me,
yet still left me.
If he loved me, how could he hurt me?
Forever, I will love him
the way he could never love me.
We don’t talk anymore,
We don’t meet anywhere,
Blocked from every screen,
Like we were never there.
I burned all the pictures,
Deleted your number too,
Buried every single memory,
That reminded me of you.
The tears have now dried up,
No more crying in the dark,
Between the two of us,
There is left no single spark.
Almost nothing remains,
We are worlds apart, it’s true...Yet,
what kind of love is this?
It just refuses to fade out of view.
twine binds the years~
old cards resting on older letters,
each one a small echo
still reaching for me.
I am awake, yet deep I sleep,
A fragile soul I try to keep.
The shallow noise begins to
fade,
A path where childhood
ghosts are laid.
Not a word is left unsaid,
Inside the chambers of my
head.
Come the hour, I start to
breathe,
With every shadow that I
leave.
The morning calls, the chasm
falls,
A heavy weight upon the
walls.
I hear it whispering my name,
Down in the valley with my
shame.
Tired of being hard on me,
Trying to find the strength to
see
That strength is just the
naked truth,
A ragged echo of my youth.
I watch the fear, I let it go,
No longer running from the
woe.
BREAKING THE COMMAND
The mind is not a gentle
friend,
It twists the loop, it breaks
the bend.
Yet as the heavy baselines
roll,
Music acts to heal the soul.
I watch the phantom, face
the dread,
And quiet down the voice
inside my head.
I built a small cathedral
out of the hours no one saw.
Not of stone,
but of the quiet ache
that gathers when a person learns
to live with their own echo.
Inside it,
the light behaves differently.
It bends around old memories,
touches the soft edges
of the things I never said,
and warms them
as if forgiveness were a sunrise
slowly remembering how to rise.
Some days,
I am only a doorway
waiting to be opened.
Other days,
I am the whole sky
trying to hold itself together
while the wind insists
on teaching me how to let go.
But tonight,
I am simply human
a pulse,
a breath,
a small lantern of hope
carried through the dark
by hands that have learned
the art of not giving up.
And if you pass me
on one of your quieter evenings,
you might see it
that faint shimmer
of someone rebuilding themselves
not loudly,
not perfectly,
but honestly.
Here’s a small echo to carry with you into the day:
a quiet warmth,
a gentle lift,
the kind of light
that doesn’t ask for anything
except to be noticed.
. "edvard
come here
up
lover"
and she sang to
mine my
humble'd
well not humble'd
butt'close
You are the source of my soul.
The colour of my blood.
The lilt of my accent.
The waves of the ocean.
The wind of the night.
The beginning and the ending of me.
Your craters moulded the depth of my eyes.
Your dust painted the colour of my skin.
Your light kissed my body to life.
I am utterly devoted to your illumination.
Years after my separation to you, on this beautiful land I recognised you for the first time. We talked for hours until dawn and from that day on, you never left.
And I never forgot.
Your residual filled my lungs and your orbiting holes of light hummed through my veins.
I lit up, stardust and moondust shimmering within my roots, giving me a sense of faded nostalgia and a déjà vu that acknowledged you.
You were my home.
You are my home.
My place of origin.
My place of birth.
My place of creation.
I am a child of the cosmos.
A devotee to the universe.
A skin of stars.
A heart outweighing gravity.
A loyal disciple, belonging only to you.
I am an angel of the moon.
And I will end where I once began.
For even in my ending, I belong solely to you.
330.
The Echo of the Moaning Medusa
Away from my haven, irreverent Perseus!
Your goal in here is too ambitious!
You're just making yourself ridiculous!
Aiming for my head for your Andromeda mild!
You can never get it even if you get wild!
Just go with your loss like a crying child!
Want me to help you end your misery?!
Why should I care for your doomed country?!
Swallow Poseidon's judgment for your own stupidity!
No one can use me for their own advantage!
Though my worth is more than that of a sage…
To anyone's purpose I'll never ever engage!
Oh how dare you darken the brilliant aura…
Of this gorgon more gorgeous than goddess Athena?!
Oh sisters! Don't waste this Echo of the Moaning Medusa!
Ah! My neck is bleeding with the edge of his sword!
Slowly it's harder for me to utter a word!
Behold! I am dying! My vision's getting blurred!
-02/05/2015
(Dumarao)
*Fallen Myths Collection
There is a quiet, silvery lane
Where I go walking when the day is done,
Ignoring the arrogant, bright sun
To seek the ghosts of what might remain.
They do not dazzle, they do not burn,
Just faint impressions on the velvet vast,
Whispering secrets from a distant past,
Waiting for a gaze that might return.
Perhaps it is folly, this tender, lonely quest,
To chase the shimmer of a spent desire,
To sit beside a long-extinguished fire,
And hope to feel its warmth within my breast.
But oh, there is a solace in the grey,
A tender beauty in the muted glow,
A gentle knowing that I chose to go
Where only lingering shadows choose to stay.
The world demands a beacon, sharp and high,
But I am faithful to the softest gleam,
The remnants of a lovely, broken dream,
That refuses to fall from the midnight sky.
I guide my heart by lights that faded low,
Finding my way in the tender afterglow.
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