- July 20, 2022 08:33
How sharp my weapon must be,
To pierce through the souls of the blind,
To be heard by the ones in menacing power,
To shatter the benumbed hearts; hardened and cold as ice.
How unwavering my weapon must be,
From the vigor of my youth to the autumn of life.
For how long were we suppressed to defy them
and endure the deafening silence in the face of lies?
How merciful my weapon must be,
The words, the songs, the poetry;
The art of conquering this warfare
until the becoming of who we ought to be.
The warriors of this land—condemned to think that words have no might,
As they fear that only in our silence, is where their power lies.
- Florence Anne Taiño
(Illustration by Mary Vel Custodio/FEU Advocate)