When I was younger and still believed in love, I went through a failed love affair so dramatic, I half expected Zeus to intervene. I didn’t write to win anyone back. I wrote to figure out what the hell had just happened. And because apparently, when I’m heartbroken, I speak in iambic pentameter and accuse people of being demons from Hades.
It’s not about closure. It’s about catharsis.
It’s about what happens when you fall in love with someone who feels divine—
and then realize they were just passing through your myth. This poem will resonate with those na nilandi at pinaasa.
Across the River, Eros
Who are you, oh fallen Olympian?
Are you a poet, a musician… or a thespian?
For from your lips, nothing spills but song:
Serenades of love, sonnets where I belong.
Your arrows struck, this heart undone,
My soul now weak, beneath your sun,
This lifeless world revived by your beauty,
Captured by your grace, oh tempting deity!
But as I seek the warmth of your caress,
You have flown away, left me breathless
,Across the River Styx, I saw your shadows,
Slowly fading, as I chase you in the shallows.
Where are you, oh radiant creature?
Why cross over, and leave your stature?
Or are you no god, but Hades’ kin—
a demon cloaked in love, luring me in?
Ether Diaries 
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