By Ellene Joy Ungriano
When there's nothing left but words,
I'd cry out loud and see who'd hear,
I'd shout all reds and grays and shades,
And who'd stay are either deaf or real,
When there's nothing left,
I'd never spit a single cry,
I'd never shout or even sigh,
For I am but heard above my lies.
When there's nothing,
I'd know who'll love from those who'll need,
I'd see who peeks beyond the silence,
I'd wait who'll stay of love or madness.
When there is,
But words or love,
I'd be deaf and but'd never die,
I am but not for He is but I am.