By Shawn Marc B. Carreon
Upon a bonfire, a thunderstorm lurks,
Clamoring thunder within its rage.
When will downpour occur on this stage,
Behind such a sunny day blurred with hurt.
The fire attends to its horrid greed,
With slurs and hate it embodies a fiend,
Until the clouds had fallen,
And the rain has spoken.
Ashes remain as it invokes nostalgia,
A burning memory as the sun pokes its light.
Peace was an option behind ones fault,
Our tranquility is a right we have as all.
