BY TERENCE KRISHNA LOPEZ
Posted by Bulatlat
Vol. VII, No. 44, December 9-15, 2007

She was four years old,
Dianne.

Her dreams of colors
And beautiful world
Was cut, abruptly.

In that dawn of darkness
In that dawn that forever
Vanished the sunrise
In her life.
And her sister’s
And her father’s.

Dianne’s mother
Bled
Cried
Died
In front of her.

She was shot
By someone from the ranks
Of what they call military assets.

Dianne cannot understand
Not yet,
Not now

Perhaps,
When she grows up
And finds out
That her mother was an activist,
She will understand.

She may follow her footsteps.
She may become an activist too.
She may also fight for the rights of the people.

She may even take arms
And become what them military
Have tagged her mother:
Rebel. Subversive. Communist.

Ah,
Them military
Them state terrorists.

They never understand.

For every single life they take mercilessly
They give birth to many more
Who will continue

To fight
Survive
And claim the victory of the people.

Like Dianne
And her sister
And her father

Or you
And me.

in memory of Liezelda Cuñado

Posted by Bulatlat

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