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Bil John Soriao Poem
I fear when darkness steals the light.
And your image, I lose sight,
For in it, I always find delight—
Of staring, not for a brief, nor slight.
I tremble when silence deafens the music,
And hear not the sound I seek;
For your voice, soft and meek,
Inspires hope, never so bleak.
I quiver when coldness douses the warmth,
And ashes the fire from the hearth;
For your embrace is light to my path,
Wrapping me tender, like a swath.
I dread when rancor drowns the bliss.
And moments with you, I sorely miss
For the time of love, I always wish
Casting loneliness down the abyss.
Be my comfort, always,
My unending strength;
For none could fill your place —
Your love and tenderness.
Copyright © Bil John Soriao | Year Posted 2026
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Bil John Soriao Poem
It's done.
The flame doused, tears ebbed.
The hour I dreaded has come,
All feelings end.
It's here.
Numbed by long desperation
Beyond all pain and fear,
Estranged from emotion.
It's eternal.
Deaf to murmurs and whispers
Of souls, infernal.
I rise beyond shivers.
Copyright © Bil John Soriao | Year Posted 2026
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Bil John Soriao Poem
Words, they say, are a powerful tool
To share thoughts and express emotions.
Instances, there are, when they are less potent,
In moments spent in meaningful silence.
When understanding life is taking a toll,
Direly confusing and overwhelming,
A minute of solitude will calm the soul,
And escape the noise, often troubling.
When tempers soar, anger flares,
When utterances cut deep within,
Trading no speeches, nor even a stare;
Is a fire doused by water, resembling.
When an idea shared is taken for granted,
Like a wind passing, no bearing, no weight,
Wisdom dictates that dignity be protected;
To keep mum is a clever sleight.
When the soul seems to go astray
And wanders an unfamiliar path,
A quietude may help find the way,
And heal all personal scathe.
Copyright © Bil John Soriao | Year Posted 2026
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Bil John Soriao Poem
Stared at the ashes of burned bridges
Blank and free, stripped of emotion
Densely piled through the ages
Obscured from memory, no recollection
The scorching fire came not from inside
Unaware even that a tether exists
A consciousness bound in receding tides
Resembles a sun to an evening mist
Wasted by life’s strange concoction
Dampened hopes, dimmed sight
In a cobweb of confused emotions
Wildly spun, tangled tight
Lost while traveling the selfless road
Regret revealed what truly matters
Reached the isle of pain—cold and broad
Relief, now, found behind closed shutters
Solitude, a consolation offered
To an existence where others once lived
A need for what remains to be spared
When value, in the absence, is perceived
Copyright © Bil John Soriao | Year Posted 2026
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Bil John Soriao Poem
It's late; the evening chill dictates.
Body shivered, skin hairs dampened
As the drowning silence resonates,
Isolation crept as the hour deepened.
Faint glows from the candles lit.
Replaced the moonlight, eerily absent.
Veiled by curtains, fogged by mist,
The alleyway is a precarious tread.
Arrived — those massive gates surround
The place I long expected to abound,
Where rest is rewardingly found
Completed the journey, one full round.
Let the door close; the past be forgotten
Escape from worries, untie the burden.
An existence resembling life in the Garden,
For all conclusions are personal heaven.
Copyright © Bil John Soriao | Year Posted 2026
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