Cagsawa Ruins Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

I-t's a beautiful day,
R-ise of the beacon begins;
E-arly Monday morn comes,
N-ight cold chill
E-nds.

D-awn has just broken,
A-fter the lonely twilight;
S-un twenty-seventh February
M-akes the clouds pure white.
A-nother moon's face is gone,
R-ays rise above the horizon;
I-t's a sweet lovely morn,
N-either dark nor oblivion.
A-im to trace the result of Mayon's wrath, many tourists have been there since;
S-ee the perfect cone at the back of the Cagsawa Ruins.