Distorted Honor Poem by Princess Bernadette Anillo

Stuck on my pillow
crying in the nights
Seeking for the window
where stars feel low
I am filthy but I am poor
And still I cannot assure
the moments I long to see
the dreams I adore

I whirled upon my wearies
And flowed with the river
The sighs of my breathings
feels the same as disaster
I am drowning on my own
gulping my very soul
The water is my death
But still love is where I fall

Chasing is exhausting
As if birds became mute
And the suburbs of my feelings
always ends in a dispute
I stay behind my mellows
Shiver in my colors
Wept behind my mask
of my distorted honor