As The Mud Runs Dry Poem by Antonio Liao

smell of foul capture the whole ground
an innocent blood rapture the
arena of homes and nobody is excuse for
even the lies dirt disturbed the sacred
place of peace

tears pour like rains ride above the color
of the scatter rainbow, seemingly
butcher calf in the womb of the mother;
not even pain deadly win tomb

ready to come to swim and by the mud poison
the air the wave clashes the wind, color
quizzed the sleep as the rain engulf the
land

horrified but not gone to run,
surrender capture
our faith, knowing that the night waited
the day to shine, until dawn the safe
heaven comes

treacherous dark sky comes no more...



a poem dedicated to the people of
COMPOSTELLA VALLY, the great typhoon PABLO,
Internationally known as BOHPA,