Ballad of a Flooded Island

The rain descends on scaffolds constructed of lies,

For each droplet now stains what was written in shame.

Beneath all the flood, the gilded city decays,

Yet they swear that the drowning water is to blame.

The floodlights are churning across fever and smoke,The blurred lenses distort what they can’t bear to call.The streets are now engulfed with the weight of their words,As the men on the screens pretend they know it all

The flood funds are drifting through jeweled and gemmed hands,Their silver-spooned heirs sip champagne as waters climb.The dikes have long collapsed, yet their pockets gleam gold As the poor pay for another well-practiced crime.

The senators gather inside the red-rimmed glass,Their hands folded neatly while the waters align.They promise redemption with another delay. Is the flood just their excuse or their grand design?

In Cebu, the fields dissolve to rivers of clay,

While Leyte dreams of tides that will never recede.

From Cavite’s coast to flooded fields of Rizal,

Each vow of rescue sinks with the poor by the reed.

For seventy years, they promised a hazy dawn 

Each year born with the same corrupt thieves at the helm.

The coffers grow fatter while cities sink in grime,

As the crowd of the people starts to overwhelm.

Lied to all my life by the same familiar names,

Their portraits still hang in the hallways from decay.

The poor exchange their votes for a meal and a smile,

Is this freedom, or debt we cannot wash away?

The cities keep drowning while towers pierce through gray, 

Their reflections betray every lie we defend.

The waters fall back, but the silence will not fade, 

A nation sinking, still damned to repeat the end.