As we read this, let us ponder on what we can do for our country. This country has given us so much, and when we give to our country, we give back to God.
The thoughts below that you will read are not mine, but from a very good brother who loves every bit of his being Filipino. Let’s hoist once more the banner of las islas Filipinas.
Sir Luis Quibranza III,
Sir Luis Jr K Quibranza,
Sir Alan Luigi Ladrera Flores,
Sir Omar Razdawi Sahibbil,
Sir William Billy Sienes III,
My friends who love this country,
please pass this message onto everyone you know
and encourage them to pass it on to everyone else they know.
This is my cry for the country and her people.
Let us all read this as whole and not as fragments,
for all of us to understand entirely and not partially.
For the truth should be whole,
not half, not quarter.
So should be the heart of each countryman,
who wields the links that binds this country,
and the wheels that turn and bring it further down the road
of the progress we love.
I started with the five of you because you are the ones I trust most that have the heart to love this country of ours.
May God bless us all as we go forth and make this country
worthy as a kingdom.
To my brothers and sisters who receive this blessing, may it guide your heart forward. God bless you all.
We scream to be Kings.
by: L John M
Oh Majestic Empress covered in dirt,
My motherland tormented by the rapids earth,
Though debted to your neighbors you continue to feed,
your children who are growing both in number and need.
Oh wonderful empire covered in dust,
the rooves of your children are smothered in rust,
their carriages old and coughing up smoke,
their pockets are emptying, almost all, broke.
Beloved motherland, are you listening to me?
Can you hear my voice among all their pleas?
Can you hear me crying to receive that thrown?
That zone that remains to commoners unknown?
Though I am among them, not a monarch in robe,
I want all of us to have the heart to conquer the globe,
not by wars, nor through money, nor by powers that force,
but by noble intentions, from all evil divorce.
By the noblest heart, I choose to uphold,
the ones they call legends and stories of old.
Though with myth I belong in “reality’s” eyes,
I am part of a “truth” that is no way a lie.
My brothers and sisters are starving to death,
from eachother they earn, so they sink in their debts.
I’m sure we can give out what our neighbors don’t own,
as they fairly help out, buying seeds that we sow.
Let me call out my brothers who steal from the rest,
Go back to our motherland, change and re-bless,
our brothers and sisters who you all once misplaced,
back right into your arms, with the dearest embrace.
Let me teach our empire the difference from two;
The reality we teach, and The truth that we knew.
That reality satisfies what we can hold,
While the truth is an absolute story to be told.
That reality relies only on matter,
but when matter is gone, it is all a disaster.
For the fact will be hidden by death of the proof,
But the Truth remains, though burried in fruits.
Once they know this my mother, they will realize,
the difference of both, as they open their eyes.
To put a difference between correct and right,
So they could determine decisions upright.
Correct as in something relative by facts,
reasonably logic, systematic, on track.
But relative in favor. Some right. Some wrong.
Cause sometimes it would alter, it may fail after all.
Then, Right as in something that favors no one,
for the answer is general and an absolute one,
Good as in holy, not lukewarm, nor both.
The standing on barriers, it’s purity loathes.
When they learn to put differences, they will reveal,
a mind that is stable, a spirit unveiled.
A thinking that no one can puppet and wield,
For the person who owns it, leaves it unsealed.
Rise their minds from starvation, and drive them with truth,
A truth that will urge them to heal and to soothe,
all the wounds that they nurse and ignore with a smile.
as they open their eyes and walk the miles.
The road to progress, that they then shall endear,
for they’ll no longer tolerate poverty and tears.
For they’ll strive to get better than the halfbaked works,
by these financial fatcats, bribers and jerks.
My mother, my words may be thorns in a broth,
but nurtured it can be suttle and soft,
like a breeze that gently pushes right through,
and bring all these wanderers safely to you.
These vagabonds lost from speed of the world,
these children of yours treated old and absurd,
let them soar with these wisdoms I leave in this poem,
for these are knowledges, solid and solemn.
Forgive the theives who will twist my words,
for they’re slaves of the devil’s merciless world.
Instead, help my brothers reveal its true worth,
so these slaves would escape their sufferings and curse.
To our God that made everything good in His eyes,
To you my mother, my queen and her knights,
To the brothers and sisters I love, and the ones the bring tears to my eyes,
let us contemplate more on these words and rise.
For though different we are in opinions and faith,
we are all destined under one holy way,
the fate to be destined with our God who made
us all to be with Him forever unscathed.
For all was made with purpose and order,
the gates, the bridges, the tunnels, and borders,
The time, space, elements, planets and stars,
We are all bound to be as noble as we are.
“as we should be.”
For that is something we are meant to be.
Something we are all made to be.
The image and likeliness of God.
The ones whom He made and meant to be with Him.