Sunday, November 1, 2015



Oh, don't! Please don't stare at me
With your hollowed empty eyes
That witnessed how hopes and dreams
Died in the comfort of your bosom
Don't scream to me your silent plea
I have no power to errase your sorrow
You are but a lonely empty village
With broken spirit
Ready to submit yourself
To oblivion while waiting for your sons
And daughters to return home.
You are but a cluster of broken homes
leaking roofs, decaying walls,
unattended grounds
But I will paint your dignity and loveliness
Without your blemish
Like you were once was
A lovely village who treasured
the mute sound of love
and security you offered
Now gone... gone... gone
Swept forever by one
powerful stroke of war.
An invasion.
A power of complex pattern
That plunder and injure
A macabre operation
That recognized nothing
of dignity and privacy destroyed
Of human sufferings of gentle people
Who learned
To be gentle no more.

Rebecca Villanueva

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