The capital city at nighttime
is an wayward sinner, recidivist
in the full sense of penance.
There is no indulgence here,
not anywhere you want to look
even in the vicissitudes of repentance
sugarcoated so the bitterness
would not be tasted in the meal
we partake to celebrate the loss
of our sense of relief.
In these interesting times
in the land, ti refuse to believe
is a virtue come alive.
We live longer lives this way
more colorful and exciting.
Hope is not for us after
a millennium of madness
a thousand and one years
of leaving us bereft, useless.
The bad dream of politicos
are on the streets, banner after
banner announcing what to expect
but which we know we will not get.
Not this time around, no,
with actors and sons of land-grabbers
getting the mandate from their history
of delusions to lead us to greatness.
We call out to virtuue, our own.
Better be in this unbelief than
resurrecting our dead and dying dreams.
The capital city at nighttime is this:
we celebrate another year of grief
with the promise of EDSA come to waste.
Manila, on the 24th EDSA Day