when messiahs
become unwelcome stalkers
that assault the nose like smog
and fumes bathing Manila;

when the reeking cycle
of age-old lies and greed
grows stronger every minute,
where can one find deliverance?

or is there such thing as deliverance
anymore? refuge of pen from pain?
but it only accentuates the misery;

the faster the words populate the page,
the deeper the memory stabs the heart,
yet, is there any other way
than this catharsis?