Sweet Revenge

In twilight's hush, where shadows dance and play,

A tale of sweet revenge unfolds its sway. 

A heart, once broken, now beats with fiery grace, 

As justice weaves a tapestry of sweet revenge's place. 

 

The memory of pain, a burning fire within, 

A thirst for retribution, a desire to win. 

The sweetest revenge, a taste of triumph true, 

As the aggrieved soul rises, renewed anew.  

 

With every step, with every breath, a plan unfolds, 

To right the wrongs, to seize the sweet revenge to hold. 

The world may doubt, the world may scoff and sneer, 

But sweet revenge will come, and bring a tear. 

 

The heart, now hardened, forged in fire and pain, 

A weapon sharpened, a will unbroken and gain. 

The time is nigh, the moment at hand, 

To take the sweetest revenge, to take the stand.

O Lovely Tree

Years ago, each morning, I had to stash towels, colognes, baby powder, and my office uniform in the car, as I drove my kids to their school. Their classes started an hour and a half earlier than my work. This gave me a window of time to do anything I like. And so, I laced up my running shoes and hit the trails of Cebu Business Park grounds which is just behind their school.

This had become my morning regimen that in a way help improve my physical well-being.

Each run left me feeling rejuvenated and energized, enough to equip me in tackling the daily tensions later that day in my work.

Interestingly, there was this one tree in particular that became my sanctuary. No matter the weather, it provided shelter and comfort to me.

Beneath its branches, the cool morning air wrapped around me like a gentle embrace.

I could hear birds chirping above and insects buzzing around in the tall grass.

The scent of the air carried a sweet aroma of earth and greenery.

This transported me back to the carefree days of my childhood spent in nature.

It was here, beneath my beloved tree, that an inspiration struck me.

As I went inside the car, I got a piece of paper and a pen. I wrote this lovely poem, as it's thought and feeling still lingered in me that moment.

O lovely tree, so tall and grand

Your branches reach up the sky

Your leaves shimmer in sunlight

And birds rest as they fly by

Your roots run deep into the ground

Anchoring you strong and true

Providing shelter for creatures

In the serene forest view

Your bark, a rough and textured coat

Tell stories of season gone by

Of storms weathered and sunlight gleamed

Under vast and endless sky

O lovely tree, so grand and wise

Your presence brings such peace

A sanctuary for all who roam

In your shade, our worries cease

How Could An Angel Turn Her Back

Barely spending half my life in this institution

Trying to be surreptitiously flawless at work

Mine's never been an open book but a mystery

Being here long time ago but seems quite new

While on a tour of duty for my daily bread

A familiar face was set before my very eyes

Caught me jolted with heart filled with glee

Burning with a passion so warm and tender

It's the sweetest countenance I ever did see

My little angel's face so very brightly beaming

An exquisite and pure moment of joy and love

Oh God, how could an angel turn her back?

Only yesterday she's like an unassuming bud

An innocent earthling crawling around her crib

That blossoms into a charming little girl I adore

And never will I go weary because I love her so

    As I went my way to an out-of-office work, I found myself in a taxi, my mind drifting to the daily tasks ahead. But as I passed by my five-year-old daughter’s school, my disposition suddenly changed. I caught a glimpse of her small frame waiting by the gate with her nanny, anticipating a ride home. The taxi stopped briefly, and for that fleeting moment, I saw her, then my heart ached with the longing to step out and embrace her.

    She is the reason I endure the frustrations of my daily routine, along with my other daughters, nine and ten years old. My wife left for work abroad a few years ago, seeking a better life, and had returned just once since, for a short period of time only.

    At my workplace, I keep my personal life private. I work simply to provide for my family. Flaunting my good performance to seek any recognition is not even in my vocabulary. However, there are days I feel like quitting, exhausted from the grind or disheartened by misjudgments. But it's always the thoughts of them that anchor me, reminding that this struggle is no longer for me, it's for them, the ones I hold most dear.

    So, as I sat at my desk, my little girl's image lingered in my mind, stirring an extraordinary urge to capture my feelings in words.

    And so, this poem is dedicated to her.