Dive into a symphony of emotions with our Valentine's Day special stories from our very own literary team. From heartfelt poetry to poignant reflections, each tale unveils the depths of love's complexity. Swipe through for a journey of passion, longing, and devotion.
ACT 1
Let it be
By F.C.
If I am to die, then let not the stars shine for me. Do not bestow me the fragility of hand-held compromises, let not my burial be the burying of their feuds.
Tell your father to bring his sword, and mine the pride of men. Should my funeral bestow civility, then tell them of me.
Know me as your lover, know me as your fool. Let them see how you kiss me,
From once, the bed-- and into the vestibule.
Wheedle the casket from once I’d lay, and whisper your name:
Revive me from my feet, my loins, and my lips.
Tell me to forget the heavens, to forget your face,
For any rose, just as I have risen
Would taste just as sweet.
(If I am to die, bestow me your flowers;
place them upon me to rot.
Let the mourners lift not their veils,
let our trodden garden path leave no trail.)
(Meanings made defiled upon definition
Flowers often bought, left rotten
Should love become wrought upon a mere person
Then let all of love be known, yet forgotten.)
(Let my love remain baseless,
Tell our mothers to not understand.
May the divine remain faceless,
And I stay longing for your hand.)
ACT 2
the letter I left on your balcony
by Thea Maristelle
I'm a free soul of everlasting disarray and a clash of burning passion. My abyssal feelings remain in the depths, an unknown cave of untrailed treasure. Thus far, I am a collapsing petal, a clash of red and faded orange, a confusing sight of portrayed mirror illusions, a proud soul who walks on the path of strong will, and a free-falling embodiment of chaos that flows alongside the river; without a hint of indecisiveness. Wherever the universe sways me, so shall my heart depart.
You, on the other hand, is my poem of great intimacy. The soul that I deeply crave. You're the reason why my free wildered benevolence came to the conclusion that love isn't limited. It passes into the neverending horizon, it's a skyline,
a shooting star,
a sunrise dipped in honey,
a universal approach to the unknown.
You are my poem. An unusual dissent of chill and flame that coincides with your intensity. You are the embodiment of my feeling of compassion. The most irrational reason for the lumps in my throat; was the substantial ground for my loss of breath.
You're the reason why I seek the sun's breath. The reason why my ears began to crave love songs. The reason why my shaded monochromatic scene began to scheme a pastel color. The reason why every note I hear from the waves reminds me of your affection.
You're the reason why I love my tears, why I cry and it's still gratifying; as if a sugar cane abstract, came across imposing the harmony-mint and syrup-dew, leaving candied tears, the kind that is pleasurable despite the accompanying throb. The gentle calm breath of air that sways my hair.
You're the reason why I strangely feel this sudden warmth, the sudden stroke along my spine, through my arms and it flows through my body and it feels so distantly familiar. A momentary feeling of ecstasy. A sudden trip to cloud nine.
You're the reason why there's a sudden spark in the constellations, stars patterns. The reason why I suddenly quest the existence of metaphysical exploits. The reason why I deeply crave something sweet.
I yearn for us to be together. I yearn for distance to wrap itself and make room for us.
I wish the universes folds itself for our souls to journey with each other
I
so long
yearn for you
This will be a tiring journey. Make sure that your knees won't get tired. And if in the middle you'll get tired. I'll be there, with you, let's not call for darkness to sneak upon our feelings, rather, let us sit, and look at how the moon gracefully glances upon our path. Let's not look for ambiguous sketches. Let's get lost in this disassembled maze, though even that can't corrupt my heart. I feel as if tho, you're home. And for that reason, I can't get lost.
Well, I've grown to know that this shall be greater than I love you. I've written this to tell you that there are greater words to express my chaotic affection for you. I love you isn't enough to describe it. So I wrote the most beautiful things that came to mind.
ACT 3
Bound to Defy
written by B.C. Writes
In the throes of fate's relentless tide,
I pen this letter, my dearest one, with a trembling hand,
Hoping it finds you amidst the tumult of war’s embrace,
Where the clash of breaking swords and warriors' cries pierce the night,
My soul, whose very essence is entwined with thine,
Yearns to draw the distance between our bawling hearts.
As chaos envelops the dawn, memories flood my mind,
Of that misty evening shrouded in tendrils of fog,
The air was heavy with the breath of opulence and grandeur,
A half-empty glass of ruby-red wine in your soft delicate hand,
Its aroma mingling with the hushed whispers of the wind,
And a dying ember of cigarette between my grime-etched fingers,
Casting a warm glow upon your face,
Its smoke dancing gracefully into the twilight sky,
A quiet curiosity stirred within me, sunk deep beneath my bones,
Nurtured fiercely as I carry this love upon my sleeve.
In the balcony cloaks our clandestine rendezvous,
Where whispers of passion and stolen kisses bloom in utter secrecy,
With shared vows of eternal devotion,
Moments of solace and warmth found in each other’s arms,
Like ghosts unseen, past shadows cast, an applauded kismet,
Yet, this ill fate of ours is a shade of dread,
Casting thunderclouds upon this gleam of tender light,
As swords are drawn and tempers start to flare,
Our love becomes an earmark caught in between,
And in sorrow’s bitter trance, the fortress we built, now bound to tragically tear.
But behold, my dearest one,
For the collision of stars and the bundle of rain is rare to see,
Aught I would do to defy this star-crossed curse,
And if it only means being with you,
I’d soak my lungs in blood and drench in melancholy,
I'd face armies without end and brave the storms of war,
I’d scale the highest peaks and endure the pain of every scar,
As my heart was bound to beat only for ye,
Behold, my dearest one,
For I’d pay the price of living with you instead of just loving you.
Though the battlefield be strewn with parlous scent,
And coil lurks in the thousand eyes of the night,
May you turn away from despair's grim call,
And soothe thy restless soul,
For with each stroke of ink upon this parchment fair,
I send a whispered prayer, an earnest plea,
That it may find its way to thee.
Each word is a promise to keep,
Each line is a testament of undying confession,
That even the very heavens above,
I’m bound to defy, no matter the cost.
ACT 4
Title: Until I Am
by watercolorcantcolor
Once, I also had love.
Long before the skies were blue and the clouds hung above.
But in this chrysalism… there is a forlorn sense of a silent loss,
shrill enough that even the restlessness was left in exhaust
Whelved beneath the puddles of mud and ground was a faint scent
of a sweet, little poppy that was once stained with red
Perhaps, there is no honor for a flower that's dead
But at least it had bled.
Once, I was also a heart that had beaten
There were blossoms, swaying, chasing, as if announcing that this is Eden
and it must have been because there lingered the scent of stars
that I told myself it was, that I told myself it has.
Once, I was also a fluttering butterfly
and there was a vast garden of nectar for me to glorify
whilst there up the Sun God was sighing, smiling, singing
He was there telling, whispering..! Promising that if the wind would send me up
He would let me ride the encompassing vapor, and it would not be unjust
The Sun God had all day but there is night…
and tomorrow is perpetual moonlight.
Once, I was also hateful
Desperately clinging unto the spring's cradle
I was never prepared for autumn's emptiness,
neither was I able to brood that the winter's chill would be no less
Been told that the seasons change sometimes, but what of this incessant tide
that my Sun God shall ne'er shine?
Once, I was also wilting
Plunged into the depths of abysmal hell and dying
Looking up to a world that no longer holds the sun
I was simply a flower that even a sliver of light held none
For such a short-lived prime, this heartburn is yet to be allayed
and maybe, this much can last for aye
Once, I also thought I lived
but there was only a broken tree that the tears have smeared
Surviving this cruel season never meant I would see again
the light that I woke up to, the sun that I have always looked up to
In passing, I knew that it might have been a parting
that served no "see you agains" but merely departing
but this seedling I shall nurture, these memories I shall treasure.
because
Once, I was also in love… and still am.
Until I am.
poetry and philosophy by lucsamael
ACT 1
Let it be
By F.C.
If I am to die, then let not the stars shine for me. Do not bestow me the fragility of hand-held compromises, let not my burial be the burying of their feuds.
Tell your father to bring his sword, and mine the pride of men. Should my funeral bestow civility, then tell them of me.
Know me as your lover, know me as your fool. Let them see how you kiss me,
From once, the bed-- and into the vestibule.
Wheedle the casket from once I’d lay, and whisper your name:
Revive me from my feet, my loins, and my lips.
Tell me to forget the heavens, to forget your face,
For any rose, just as I have risen
Would taste just as sweet.
(If I am to die, bestow me your flowers;
place them upon me to rot.
Let the mourners lift not their veils,
let our trodden garden path leave no trail.)
(Meanings made defiled upon definition
Flowers often bought, left rotten
Should love become wrought upon a mere person
Then let all of love be known, yet forgotten.)
(Let my love remain baseless,
Tell our mothers to not understand.
May the divine remain faceless,
And I stay longing for your hand.)
ACT 2
the letter I left on your balcony
by Thea Maristelle
I'm a free soul of everlasting disarray and a clash of burning passion. My abyssal feelings remain in the depths, an unknown cave of untrailed treasure. Thus far, I am a collapsing petal, a clash of red and faded orange, a confusing sight of portrayed mirror illusions, a proud soul who walks on the path of strong will, and a free-falling embodiment of chaos that flows alongside the river; without a hint of indecisiveness. Wherever the universe sways me, so shall my heart depart.
You, on the other hand, is my poem of great intimacy. The soul that I deeply crave. You're the reason why my free wildered benevolence came to the conclusion that love isn't limited. It passes into the neverending horizon, it's a skyline,
a shooting star,
a sunrise dipped in honey,
a universal approach to the unknown.
You are my poem. An unusual dissent of chill and flame that coincides with your intensity. You are the embodiment of my feeling of compassion. The most irrational reason for the lumps in my throat; was the substantial ground for my loss of breath.
You're the reason why I seek the sun's breath. The reason why my ears began to crave love songs. The reason why my shaded monochromatic scene began to scheme a pastel color. The reason why every note I hear from the waves reminds me of your affection.
You're the reason why I love my tears, why I cry and it's still gratifying; as if a sugar cane abstract, came across imposing the harmony-mint and syrup-dew, leaving candied tears, the kind that is pleasurable despite the accompanying throb. The gentle calm breath of air that sways my hair.
You're the reason why I strangely feel this sudden warmth, the sudden stroke along my spine, through my arms and it flows through my body and it feels so distantly familiar. A momentary feeling of ecstasy. A sudden trip to cloud nine.
You're the reason why there's a sudden spark in the constellations, stars patterns. The reason why I suddenly quest the existence of metaphysical exploits. The reason why I deeply crave something sweet.
I yearn for us to be together. I yearn for distance to wrap itself and make room for us.
I wish the universes folds itself for our souls to journey with each other
I
so long
yearn for you
This will be a tiring journey. Make sure that your knees won't get tired. And if in the middle you'll get tired. I'll be there, with you, let's not call for darkness to sneak upon our feelings, rather, let us sit, and look at how the moon gracefully glances upon our path. Let's not look for ambiguous sketches. Let's get lost in this disassembled maze, though even that can't corrupt my heart. I feel as if tho, you're home. And for that reason, I can't get lost.
Well, I've grown to know that this shall be greater than I love you. I've written this to tell you that there are greater words to express my chaotic affection for you. I love you isn't enough to describe it. So I wrote the most beautiful things that came to mind.
ACT 3
Bound to Defy
written by B.C. Writes
In the throes of fate's relentless tide,
I pen this letter, my dearest one, with a trembling hand,
Hoping it finds you amidst the tumult of war’s embrace,
Where the clash of breaking swords and warriors' cries pierce the night,
My soul, whose very essence is entwined with thine,
Yearns to draw the distance between our bawling hearts.
As chaos envelops the dawn, memories flood my mind,
Of that misty evening shrouded in tendrils of fog,
The air was heavy with the breath of opulence and grandeur,
A half-empty glass of ruby-red wine in your soft delicate hand,
Its aroma mingling with the hushed whispers of the wind,
And a dying ember of cigarette between my grime-etched fingers,
Casting a warm glow upon your face,
Its smoke dancing gracefully into the twilight sky,
A quiet curiosity stirred within me, sunk deep beneath my bones,
Nurtured fiercely as I carry this love upon my sleeve.
In the balcony cloaks our clandestine rendezvous,
Where whispers of passion and stolen kisses bloom in utter secrecy,
With shared vows of eternal devotion,
Moments of solace and warmth found in each other’s arms,
Like ghosts unseen, past shadows cast, an applauded kismet,
Yet, this ill fate of ours is a shade of dread,
Casting thunderclouds upon this gleam of tender light,
As swords are drawn and tempers start to flare,
Our love becomes an earmark caught in between,
And in sorrow’s bitter trance, the fortress we built, now bound to tragically tear.
But behold, my dearest one,
For the collision of stars and the bundle of rain is rare to see,
Aught I would do to defy this star-crossed curse,
And if it only means being with you,
I’d soak my lungs in blood and drench in melancholy,
I'd face armies without end and brave the storms of war,
I’d scale the highest peaks and endure the pain of every scar,
As my heart was bound to beat only for ye,
Behold, my dearest one,
For I’d pay the price of living with you instead of just loving you.
Though the battlefield be strewn with parlous scent,
And coil lurks in the thousand eyes of the night,
May you turn away from despair's grim call,
And soothe thy restless soul,
For with each stroke of ink upon this parchment fair,
I send a whispered prayer, an earnest plea,
That it may find its way to thee.
Each word is a promise to keep,
Each line is a testament of undying confession,
That even the very heavens above,
I’m bound to defy, no matter the cost.
ACT 4
Title: Until I Am
by watercolorcantcolor
Once, I also had love.
Long before the skies were blue and the clouds hung above.
But in this chrysalism… there is a forlorn sense of a silent loss,
shrill enough that even the restlessness was left in exhaust
Whelved beneath the puddles of mud and ground was a faint scent
of a sweet, little poppy that was once stained with red
Perhaps, there is no honor for a flower that's dead
But at least it had bled.
Once, I was also a heart that had beaten
There were blossoms, swaying, chasing, as if announcing that this is Eden
and it must have been because there lingered the scent of stars
that I told myself it was, that I told myself it has.
Once, I was also a fluttering butterfly
and there was a vast garden of nectar for me to glorify
whilst there up the Sun God was sighing, smiling, singing
He was there telling, whispering..! Promising that if the wind would send me up
He would let me ride the encompassing vapor, and it would not be unjust
The Sun God had all day but there is night…
and tomorrow is perpetual moonlight.
Once, I was also hateful
Desperately clinging unto the spring's cradle
I was never prepared for autumn's emptiness,
neither was I able to brood that the winter's chill would be no less
Been told that the seasons change sometimes, but what of this incessant tide
that my Sun God shall ne'er shine?
Once, I was also wilting
Plunged into the depths of abysmal hell and dying
Looking up to a world that no longer holds the sun
I was simply a flower that even a sliver of light held none
For such a short-lived prime, this heartburn is yet to be allayed
and maybe, this much can last for aye
Once, I also thought I lived
but there was only a broken tree that the tears have smeared
Surviving this cruel season never meant I would see again
the light that I woke up to, the sun that I have always looked up to
In passing, I knew that it might have been a parting
that served no "see you agains" but merely departing
but this seedling I shall nurture, these memories I shall treasure.
because
Once, I was also in love… and still am.
Until I am.
poetry and philosophy by lucsamael
As I was laying down in my twin sized double-decker bed I thought of something. The idea that love exists beyond cosmic comprehension, above the confines of the borders of the universe So, I closed my eyes and talked to a poet Mr., does love transcend the living? How long does love last? How long does love last? Hmm. How long is a piece of string? Depends on how long the person wants it to be. Exactly. Does that mean you can choose when to stop loving and you can’t just “fall” out of love? You are asking two unrelated questions at the same time. Do you want to know about choice or do you want to know about feelings changing? I want to know both Ask one at a time Ok, I want to know about feelings changing Ask the question in a complete sentence so I know what you’re asking. Can a person ever “fall” out of love? Yes, it happens all the time. You can outgrow someone, or get bored, or encounter something more exciting or more meaningful. They can do something brutal, or just generally ugly that changes how you feel about them. They can exhaust you or wear you down. You can build up grudges or misunderstandings. You can start feeling trapped or cornered. They can become less expressive, or less engaged. And sometimes you realize you've been acting out of habit and the feeling just isn't there anymore. But in the end I have the choice to still love them? You have the choice to accept them. You have the choice to stay in a relationship. You have the choice to take care of them, to be with them, to express your needs, to adapt, to continue the behaviors and actions of loving: talking, sharing, spending time, worrying about them.You have the choice to stick it out. You have the choice to change your expectations. You have the choice to re-invest in making it new. Feelings are feelings, though. If the feeling has faded, it has faded. But you can try to re-ignite it. You can change your definition of it. Sometimes love can be brought back by reinvention, it will burn again if you try. Sometimes it will burn again if you try. ….. It helps if you both try. Does love transcend the living? The Taj Mahal was built by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahān to immortalize his wife Mumtaz Mahal. It is still standing. You could call it evidence of love. The evidence continued long after he died. Does the feeling of love exist like an eternal mist or a ghost? That’s for you to decide. Love as an entity exists as a nomenon. One thing I've learned from our philosophy class. Thank you Mr.
Love, the mother of misery
by lucsamael
From your lips came a thousand kisses morphed into a thousand lies……
Through gritted teeth you spoke promises I now despise.
Love is a master of deception,
the muse of all ailing obsessions
Love is a cycle of unlearning and learning and Time will come when all you do is
unlearn
and unlearn
and unlearn
and unlearn
until you lose all the parts of yourself that made you,
you.
fall into the abyss, a blind eye weeps, a teardrop goes unnoticed.
the mystery hidden behind her deceptive lace wedding veil
Too late to notice her bright red eyes until you come for a kiss
I object, the ideals and forms shaped by the perception that love is beauty
Love is ugly!
She is the main culprit of tortured poets, runaway brides, and dead romantics
Love is a murderer!
All the door slams, glass pieces, holes on the wall, the echoes of screams in your head are testaments
Love is bloody!
The futility of Romeo and Juliet’s suffering,
Their willingness to die is not proof that love is persistent, but proof that love is impatient
Love is greedy
An agile as an arrow, so graceful in her flight until she pierces a soft soul
Metamorphosize into something far more hideous than before
So pure and virginal until love violates
Until love kills
Until a sinless creature becomes the devil because she has loved
Love is a sinner wearing a halo hiding in the shadows
wings of feathers made of agony and anguish
She has made a house out of melancholia, birthing absurdity
An architect of misery
lovesick
by lucsamael
I kneel down, bow my head, and close my eyes.
You are sick right now lying on my twin-sized double-decker bed in my college dorm.
I made lugaw, it was my first time making one,
I made it out of love,
not out of starvation or necessity,
but out of love.
I bought medicine, peeled oranges, made you eat donuts, and walked with you at 2 in the morning to make you feel better.
I missed out on meetings and assignments when you were lying on the floor, your stomach in pain and it was apparent that you were trying to hold back your tears,
I lay down on the unswept floor with you
I stroked your hair and kissed you and you’d push back in fear of infecting me,
but I didn’t care,
I still kept kissing you.
I wiped your face with water and alcohol, you haven’t showered since you came here.
I believe that loving is worship, that to love is to sacrifice
Maybe my subconsciousness still believes in God, because deep inside I still believe that loving is religious.
That holiness exists in a small room where we had our first kiss.
When I kiss your face in faith that it will heal you.
I am writing this now while our feet are touching, you are sleeping on the other end of the bed.
I love you blindly, without the thought of reciprocation.
I made you god by kissing your feet, and writing entire paragraphs and poetry dedicated to you.
In devotion, in words, I speak in tongues spreading your love to everyone I encounter.
You have made me believe in god again, you made me think of eternal paradise.
You, a walking manifestation of salvation
Woke up, kissed me, and slept again
if I leave
by Thea Maristelle
If I leave, my wounds will never heal
It would only leak blood if I were to depart. In fact, I would be exhausted from the dryness of humidity.
Might as well cast me in the murk, bind my limbs, and torment me.
My essence will always know the truth, that interrogation would less console me. Piercing my insides with deceits, every bit of it shrieks lies apart from my affection for you.
It will never fade. It will only continue to bleed deep.
If I leave, then batten down the hatches
It would coerce storms to blindly flounce against my path. Truly, it would smash the prevailing solitude.
Might as well plunge me in the oceans, and leave my corpse submerging into seamless thoughts.
My spirit would heave, and emit boundless verses, wishing that a fair amalgamation of words would convince you.
It will summon witchcraft and they might as well burn me.
if I leave, I'll die
It would be a bloody finish if I were to leave. If truth be told, I wouldn't take it as a resolution.
Might as well strip me naked, drench me with gasoline, and incinerate my carcass.
My soul would feel so uncanny, that it would plow my dejected tomb, endlessly thrusting a knife into my anatomy, hoping that one stab might bring me to life.
I can't venture an eternity with death. I refuse to, if it isn't in your arms.
Love, the mother of misery
by lucsamael
From your lips came a thousand kisses morphed into a thousand lies……
Through gritted teeth you spoke promises I now despise.
Love is a master of deception,
the muse of all ailing obsessions
Love is a cycle of unlearning and learning and Time will come when all you do is
unlearn
and unlearn
and unlearn
and unlearn
until you lose all the parts of yourself that made you,
you.
fall into the abyss, a blind eye weeps, a teardrop goes unnoticed.
the mystery hidden behind her deceptive lace wedding veil
Too late to notice her bright red eyes until you come for a kiss
I object, the ideals and forms shaped by the perception that love is beauty
Love is ugly!
She is the main culprit of tortured poets, runaway brides, and dead romantics
Love is a murderer!
All the door slams, glass pieces, holes on the wall, the echoes of screams in your head are testaments
Love is bloody!
The futility of Romeo and Juliet’s suffering,
Their willingness to die is not proof that love is persistent, but proof that love is impatient
Love is greedy
An agile as an arrow, so graceful in her flight until she pierces a soft soul
Metamorphosize into something far more hideous than before
So pure and virginal until love violates
Until love kills
Until a sinless creature becomes the devil because she has loved
Love is a sinner wearing a halo hiding in the shadows
wings of feathers made of agony and anguish
She has made a house out of melancholia, birthing absurdity
An architect of misery
lovesick
by lucsamael
I kneel down, bow my head, and close my eyes.
You are sick right now lying on my twin-sized double-decker bed in my college dorm.
I made lugaw, it was my first time making one,
I made it out of love,
not out of starvation or necessity,
but out of love.
I bought medicine, peeled oranges, made you eat donuts, and walked with you at 2 in the morning to make you feel better.
I missed out on meetings and assignments when you were lying on the floor, your stomach in pain and it was apparent that you were trying to hold back your tears,
I lay down on the unswept floor with you
I stroked your hair and kissed you and you’d push back in fear of infecting me,
but I didn’t care,
I still kept kissing you.
I wiped your face with water and alcohol, you haven’t showered since you came here.
I believe that loving is worship, that to love is to sacrifice
Maybe my subconsciousness still believes in God, because deep inside I still believe that loving is religious.
That holiness exists in a small room where we had our first kiss.
When I kiss your face in faith that it will heal you.
I am writing this now while our feet are touching, you are sleeping on the other end of the bed.
I love you blindly, without the thought of reciprocation.
I made you god by kissing your feet, and writing entire paragraphs and poetry dedicated to you.
In devotion, in words, I speak in tongues spreading your love to everyone I encounter.
You have made me believe in god again, you made me think of eternal paradise.
You, a walking manifestation of salvation
Woke up, kissed me, and slept again
if I leave
by Thea Maristelle
If I leave, my wounds will never heal
It would only leak blood if I were to depart. In fact, I would be exhausted from the dryness of humidity.
Might as well cast me in the murk, bind my limbs, and torment me.
My essence will always know the truth, that interrogation would less console me. Piercing my insides with deceits, every bit of it shrieks lies apart from my affection for you.
It will never fade. It will only continue to bleed deep.
If I leave, then batten down the hatches
It would coerce storms to blindly flounce against my path. Truly, it would smash the prevailing solitude.
Might as well plunge me in the oceans, and leave my corpse submerging into seamless thoughts.
My spirit would heave, and emit boundless verses, wishing that a fair amalgamation of words would convince you.
It will summon witchcraft and they might as well burn me.
if I leave, I'll die
It would be a bloody finish if I were to leave. If truth be told, I wouldn't take it as a resolution.
Might as well strip me naked, drench me with gasoline, and incinerate my carcass.
My soul would feel so uncanny, that it would plow my dejected tomb, endlessly thrusting a knife into my anatomy, hoping that one stab might bring me to life.
I can't venture an eternity with death. I refuse to, if it isn't in your arms.
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