The only boy in the family got drafted into the army. He saw that the journey away from home might be his last. "Mother, please take this rose. I will come back once it has withered," the young man said to his mother as he wiped the tear on her cheek. He went down the road looking at the sky. The rose never withered, and the boy never returned. His ashes were scattered in the winds by the explosion that devastated his journey. His name got engraved on a stone, and that is what's left of him. One time he prayed to return and two times he perished. One time he was posthumously awarded and two times he was remembered.
------------
Memorial to the people that gave their lives for their cause.
They headed to the battlefield with enormous courage,
fought for what they believe in
and caught the prize of remembrance and honor.
Even though they wanted to live happily with their families.

Many children were left without their dads
and many grandchildren had no grandfathers there to love and play with.
All of this was because of the desire to conquer
and wishes for fortune of some people.

Here this stone will remain
with the names of the fallen heroes for eternity.
For their families to remember and what they could have had
if it wasn't for the mindless people and their blade of destiny.
The flowers we put show that their sacrifice wasn't in vain.

Kulang ka sa tulog,
Kaya 'di ka nananaginip,
Mulat ang mga mata,
Ngunit sarado ang isip,
Lumilipad sa kalawakan,
Habang humihigop ng hangin,
Mayrong puting usok,
Pumapalibot sa paligid,
May batong gumugulong,
Pinapaikot yung plastik,
tik,
tik,
tik,
Dinig mo ang pag-ikot ng kamay ng orasan,
Para bang may nagbabantay,
Andun sa dilim,
Pati yung nakaraan,
Dinadalaw ang buhay,
Takot ang sumisilip,
Ayaw kang lubayan,
Pag huminto ka saglit,
Mauubusan ka ng laman,
Gusto mo ay palaban,
Maglalaro ka ng apoy,
Kahit magka-sunugan,
Dahil matindi ang pangangailangan,
Yung tawag ng laman,
Pag nariyan sa harapan,
Hindi mo na matanggihan

The wick is fading, and I have no matches left
In this dark abyss where I sit depressed
My valiant heart has become a perch for crows
Smile shaped in stone
Each embrace stiff and cold from my marbled soul
My arms depict a grasping hand
Reaching for a world these etched eyes will never know
Trapped in the heart of a withered artist
His mad dealings mold and make me
A victim of his musings
Crafted in a candlelit madness
Delicate delusions and vague allusions
To courage in the many veiled faces of death
Carved and set at the base of the steps
Statuesque

Hiding on my own
My face is no longer stone
My emotions are now clear and shown
The things I feel to the bone
Have only grown
When I'm alone

Was i a stepping
stone? A little r
                            o
                             c
                           k
                             to get where you
                        are now? Perhaps
                        that must have been
                        fun...
                             ­                                 Maybe our definition
                                                      ­        of fun do not compare
                                                         ­     to be the same now -
                                                                ­                                                          
I used to have fun when
you would be around,
maybe for you too...
but not in the same
way that I found.