Bente kwatro oras ang kilos
Mga gawain na tila' di natatapos
Pagtitimpi na hindi nauubos
Ano pa mahal kong Ina ang kaya **** ibuhos?

Hindi ka ba napapagod?
Araw-araw kang kumakayod
Walang day off, walang bonus, walang sahod.
Hindi ba nanghihina ang iyong mga tuhod?

Tinanggap mo ang pagiging ina
Kahit sa mga anak mo'y ikaw ay balewala.
Pagkaing isusubo na lang, ibinigay mo pa,
Sa bawat hakbang nila hindi ka nawala.

Tinanggap mo ang pagiging kahalili
Inalay sa'yong asawa ang buong sarili
Sa mga desisyon nya, ikaw ay walang masabi
Sa bawat hakbang nya ikaw ang katabi.

Hindi sapat ang salamat
Sa mga kalyo sa'yong palad
Sa hindi maindang sakit sa balikat
Kahit kailan wala kang sinumbat

Alam ko hindi sapat ang aking salamat
At hindi ka kayang tumbusan ng anumang salita
Mahal kong Ina, salamat po sa lahat lahat
Salamat po sa puso nyong 'di napapagod nagmamahal.

All of them who closed their doors in my life
Where could they be?
What have they become?
Is it just me or are they thinking of me, too?
They are the slippery sand I hold on closely
But not for long
For they always find a way out
I've contained my voice in fleeting goodbyes
I might utter the end that I will never mean
What happens to the pieces of themselves
they asked me to bear?
How does one say goodbye to those?

*So I'll keep them...

I'll keep them
No matter if I am the only one
Who's afraid to forget

Through the incredulity burning
in the grim reaper's eyes,
He unwillingly received the souls
of those who did not deserve to die
...

The bright fluids of life lay bare
and insignificant in the godforsaken lands
He sighed the heaviest breath he could muster
Death was his trade, but this affair had him
loosening his grip on the scythe
Mumbling the dead's prayer,
The half-living defied fate's ruthless threads
And squirmed for barren hope
A child nearby cries for the light to save him
As the shadows devoured their youngest feast, so far

Now standing alone, the reaper cursed the gods
Who may or may not be listening to him
He was disgusted with the greed of these people
And their bloodbaths
Where those who avoid death and the
ones who thrillingly seek it
Summon each other with empty excuses
Thinking these are enough to fling
their guns at the righteous
Drink the innocent blood like
the finest wine from their vineyards!
Stab the weak at their remaining spots
Oh how foolish they are!
How foolish indeed!

He pities those who speak death as their honor
When they have only lived like rats
Scavengers of chances that purifies
their filthy names
He scorns those who
do not even speak of death
In their wild belief that some curse
will hand them like a platter to their graves
When death is the end that no one ,
not even him, can escape
Those cowards!
No one lives to cheat that dark fate!
No one!

The reaper was provoked by humans
Them and their incessant wonder and fear of
That that is unknown
Them who have stopped looking
at their small, definite lives
To anticipate what they could not
even begin to understand
Feeding their illusions that a special place
awaits their petty souls to rest on
Ahhh!!!He was tired of them all

Might as well finish his job...