Mindanao Massacre

Darkness snatched the smile

of the little cream dove
upon hearing the cries
of the restless soul;
echoing on the cliffs,
swimming with the waves
and murmuring to the wind
their lament: a painful "WHY?".


Somewhere in the south
on the land of the rising sun,
their blood rising, creeping
on their beloved motherland.


And the little cream dove
slowly begin to weakened.
As if its senses had died
upon visioning the dead
with bullets on their heads,
bodies and legs; hog-tied.
And marketable vice:
to kill, stood still.

Somewhere in the south
of "Pearl of the Orient"
many a souls have cried; restless.
Leaving the little cream dove sigh-
in full speed, fled away
to the mahogany trees.

As the tight air froze the night,
it stiffened in cold numbness
and no sweat-drops of heavens
can cure its frozen check.
As the vision of the dead
with bullets on their heads,
bodies and legs ;hog-tide.
Replaying on its mind, on-stop.


Somewhere in the south,
in between darkness and light,
the little cream dove died.
And in silent spirit, rises to heaven.

Leaving the day-break,

restless..stealing..killing..


In search for justice.