10/02/2025
"I am that kind of poet who seldomly writes or showcase my skill/talent in writing to many. Yet, through this writing competition organized by Shattered Pen; I was given the chance to write once again. I could not think of something that is close to my heart and that is my in-depth connection to nature that I have chosen to be the main subject of my poem. Aight! Let's hope for the best for this writing competition and I happy that I was able to write this another masterpiece of mine. " - Edgar Romaquin, 10.10.24
“Across the Troubling Waters”
Nature can work on its own beauty and shimmer,
Yet unwavering løathe from the merchants who gràpple across the troubling water.
Trees go soundly whistling the wind of wèariness,
Bending over the strong winds thinking the pluck of wood could brèak,
Hush! Thy friend of mine all things will be alright.
From møurning of dèath ‘til the dawn of mìsery,
Life could be entangled and ferociously run through the dusk of sobbìng mountains.
Nature can work on its own beauty and shimmer,
Yet unwavering løathe from the merchants who gràpple across the troublìng river.
Hear ye sound of silence, sob all you want for life do not care.
He fear that nature would succumb to death and abandon the rest,
For all these years, they never showed becoming susceptible.
Let all fears fade away, soon those flowers beyond the meadow will fest,
As no wøunds remain opening within the møurning soùl,
They may not see these fèars, these sàdness, these angèr; it will outgrow the eloquence of resilience.
Nature can heal its own wøunds through time and blossom in beauty,
Life could loosen up all doubts and bùrden onto your shoulders.
It may not be rattlìng like a bullet train, but as gentle as the wind blows.
Merchants who gràpple across the troubling water will soon cross the borders of susceptibleness,
Where all things can be found except strength and resiliency.
Nature can heal its own wøunds through time and blossom in beauty,
It has ocean of tears that could absorb everything you cry øut,
It has a cave of møurning where søuls who are weary could be liable.
Unlike in this world, you are just a tree that shed light to others,
Yet others may not seen your own bùrdens that grapple through you,
It’s alright to be susceptible and you’ll heal in time because across the troubling waters, there’s one brave soul carrying the bùrden of the world.
— Edgar Romaquin
4568 | Block III [aw]
