Mga Tula 2 (Poems 2)

Giving in to Foolishness

Darkness overshadowed the sky and it stormed snow,
Looking at the creeping flakes into my open window,
I can't help my mind but drift to that one widow.

I bet she had dark bugs visible underneath her eyes,
Guess her husband then considered her unwise,
Contrary to her youthful intelligence and elegance.

Heard she was seen as the most sophisticated,
In ostentatious gown and laces, she was dressed,
Bowing down in front of her queen, officially introduced.

As countless eligible bachelors asked their names be written down,
Then the sweet enticing words like a woodruff of one gentleman,
With tender scents of jasmine, he’d swept her above ground.

He insisted on wrecking havoc with her invisible wall,
Even within those minutes of dances she was trying to pull,
He made her feel like the belle of the ball.

She was tricked into a scandal that brought misfortune to her life,
Had she known, she wouldn’t have turned to become the tyrant's wife,
Turned out the distinguished woman was really not-so wise.

It was when she was exhausted from dancing, she rested in the garden,
After hearing a desperate call for help, she ran for the maiden,
And caught herself in a compromising position with the man then.

“A set up, a play,“ those were the words she heard from her father,
The duke gave options to buck their watchful eyes for his daughter,
Yet she willingly yielded the society’s expectations further.

She couldn't afford ruining her father’s reputation,
And set forth on another fragment of her imagination,
Cancelling all advises and corrections which were for her protection.

Entering the walls of matrimony and building their own family,
He made her took off the ornament of grace’s true beauty,
Which made the mass cast her in disdain and petty.

Whenever their graces make a visit,
She would pull down her sleeves when she's at it,
Lest they see the truth and be upset.

In all her years of horrendous wedlock,
A gift of joy and pure bliss, the neonate’s packed,
Looked like God didn't left her, always had her back.

Her once smiles for propriety’s sake, faking,
She found the lines of grin widely stretching,
And her once prayerless tongue uttered thanksgiving.

The same winter cold bade home her farewell,
And the same event braced him, indisputably killed,
When riding the carriage, her husband crushed into a broad well.

Doors closing before her very eyes even she's on her knees,
Begging help on her very friend she forged would suffice,
All refused any assistance, even her spouse’s drinking companions.

Thoughts of experiencing the happiness of having everything,
Seeing the world she envisioned slowly scrambling,
A single mother, widowed, broken, thought she had nothing.

Like the prodigal, she returned and they welcomed her home,
Begging for forgiveness for her husband's deception,
For it was her own willful insinuation.

Even half their wealth has been squandered,
They forgave her and even clothed her daughter,
It relieved her from the load that's been weighing and tethering her.

Her parents’ epitome of God’s love for her,
Once again, she looked into the Lord in prayer,
Thanking for the assurance He gave her and her daughter.

As her daughter grew rapidly into an aesthetic maiden,
In fear that she may walk into the same fate, in desperation,
I could hear the intensity of her voice, “Take time; don't rush; be sure!”
quoted from the book I recently digested.