Unemancipated

Nikko Curayag

I know I am breathing still, But this moment of time is making me ill. Yet, a hand can be seen, Merely holding on even by a dream.

In this four cornered room I’m in, I am still fighting from pain, Forfending from the chaos outside, Dependent of the wrecking mind.

Fear, just, and sympathy; Through seeing eyes can be seen vividly. I’m lost, cornered and departed. And yet the divinity still can be trusted.

His superiority will brink this to end. I know he will, for he is a friend. Let tears be cried and heart be broken; For no wound will be scars without swelling.

Photo by: Arvin Buyser