BY JUPER NIÑO CALULOT BIGAYAN
i
That virulent threat has crimsoned our shores
Scattering gloom yonder distant horizons
Noble are those who battle headstrong
Nobler still for they soldier on
ii
Are we meant indeed to tread this course?
In this perilous path of the unseen and unknown
If this be so then there’s no recourse
So fret not oh! dear and just hold on
iii
If history is written to favor victors
Then why are some winners encaved in stones?
In some nameless graves as forgotten heroes
And still that pyre ignites in a world forlorn
iv
As weakened warriors lift their swords
To salvage kindreds of hundreds and scores
That dreaded enemy seeps deeper still
To make this world a wartorn hell
v
But man has a weapon far potent in strength
That no form of threat can ever defeat
In direst of times when hope seems lost
That will of man rises, and defies all odds.