Weathered feather

Poet

[weathered-feather]

Talaga bang kalapastangan ang ibigin ka?

9:55 P.M. | 6/10/26

Talaga bang kalapastangan ang ibigin ka?

Mga salitang 'di ko inaasahang mangangaling sa'king mga labi, lalo pa't dati kitang ipinalangin sa Diyos nang paulit-ulit.

Hindi ko lamang malubos isiping ganito ang tadhana, at ang kagustuhan ng ating ama sa langit.

Na sa tuwing malapit ako sakanya, nawawala ang ating pagsasama.

At sa oras na ako'y kumawala sa ama, muli kong hinahanap ang 'yong presensya.

Sa tuwing 'di ko nadadasal nang maayos ang ama namin, pagdating ng alas-diyes ay tiyak na muli kitang hahanapin.

Ngunit tuwing buong loob akong nagtitiwala sa kanyang hangarin, pagmamahal ko sayo'y tinatangay ng mapagmatiyag na hangin.

Kung ikaw ang naghihintay sa dulo ang madilim na daan, masisi mo ba 'ko kung tatawagin kitang kasalanan?

At kung ika'y isang kasalanan sakin, masasabi mo bang ang ibigin ka'y isang kalapastangan?

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- in stars, from the heavens above -

Feather

[weathered-feather]

Poets may die, but their arts live on

If the strings of fate has tied your path to this very blog, you have just stumbled upon a dead poet. Dead in such a way that her being has been crushed from existence, leaving only her soul to roam the ends of Earth.

Hi, I'm feather.

I write poems not because I wish to be under the limelight as a 'great poet', but because poetry leaks out of my soul. The art of words fills my soul to the brim, that anything could stir it and cause a spill known as poetry.

Words that come from deep inside, words whispered to me by the divine, and words that my soul desperate hide—all of which find their place in this blog.

Welcome to the museum adorned by the fragments of my soul.

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- in stars, from the heavens above -

Feather