Four Corners

by Sam Sabordo

Heaven

Above thousands showered by divine light, with my seraphic wings, I soar. Through God’s divine exaltation, I am guided as I glide along the dawns’ first light. A freedom sworn, gifted through His words upon the book. As long I am detached from mortal sin, my soul is free to take flight amongst all four corners of the Earth.

Limbo

It must have been the doing of the four winds of the world that lead my perpetual flight to the realm of sinners.

Within the welkins, I cannot help but descend upon seeing such magnum opus— taking the form of a man.

Earth

With you, I promise to tread soil with my feet, with glass fingers in the warmth of coarse hands. My wings, I shall surrender— a bite from the serpent’s fruit I do not fear to take, just to be with you alone. A promise, of sharing eternity in the warm embrace— of only us two.

Thousand suns have come to set, and your last words has grazed my ears. Our time, was never enough. My wings sacrificed, I fell without grace. A heathen— the price of demanding, romance scorned by the Earth only on our destined conclusion, your lifeless husk, is what remained in my embrace. Forbidden, was our love story. But we were destiny’s troupe at this tragedy. Where the final spotlight shines upon— my forlorn figure, desperately clutching unto your pale face, staring upon departed eyes. Our foolish oath stained in red; when you promised forever— why did you only last a lifetime? In the end, I am not the angel who kissed your cold lips last.

Hell

visual by Stephanie Anne O. Alolon

Waking up by Kyle Bryan T. Palparan

ii. “Will you?”—You secretly liked it when I blithely push ice cream sundaes to your face. We used to roam the gardens and you would tell how galaxies form within your stomach whenever our gaze collided. You loved sunshines like stamps, hiding them in that makeshift album that you and I made.

i. You threw away the dirty clothes in the laundry and scattered the sunflower seeds for the ducks to eat. I often wonder if it was enough at all like a parachute that I gave, only to see you clutch a fresh bouquet of roses as the day completely fades—”No”

Armageddon ii.

by Aquilina

People say that your love for someone never goes away, no matter how many letters of theirs you burn or pictures you blacken. That it follows you 6 feet underground until your heart stops beating. Maybe a little after that.

And as you can’t control your gaze, your racing heart, or the way your feet lets death take you to ashes, you let it smoke inside your chest until it finds its way out, burning another pile of firewood to match the red glow in your eyes.

visual by Jewel Irish S. Belascuain

visual by Joseph Bryant J. de los Santos