Graphics by: Andrea Nicole B. Villasanta
Photo by: Keith Marie R. Dela Cruz
Captive Freedom
By: Therese Anne B. Cruz
There's this street in the walled city,
Where I often find myself coming back to,
I took after its name, as I have stared into the eyes of the painted graffiti,
The rubble and debris around me, tells the tale of what we've been through,
It tells a tale of captured freedom,
A parasite that has made its home into the mother nest,
Building a cruel kingdom,
But they did not care nevertheless,
It tells a tale of a place,
Where freedom was taken away once more,
It now takes the name of a saint nowadays,
How ironic, because it was smeared with nothing but gore,
It tells a tale of a war once held,
But it was not our fight at all,
They returned our freedom that they withheld,
Leaving us in the ruins of a run-down capital,
It tells a tale of robbed innocence,
Where lives were taken,
Where the sins of the invaders fell upon the citizens,
The aftermaths have left us bare and shaken
And today, I tell a tale,
Of a labyrinth in the twenty-first century,
Where no matter how many times you walk through the trail,
Embed in here is what once was lost, keep them in memory,
Resides in this city,
Are strength and fortitude,
In freedom there is beauty,
Do not let it be subdued,
It is time that the sun shines on us again,
The constant reminder, over the mausoleum
There is much to be done,
For us to take back our captured freedom
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