I caught a glimpse of the sun rising and the moon setting down, why do we praise

the sun when it’s ascending more than when it descends when both is fairly in
between light and darkness? And the dusk is as beautiful as the dawn? How can we
preach about life when we kill all the hope for someone? Is war deliberately the
paradox of freedom? And love is irrational without blood being shed? If love is the
currency of our struggles… how long will it endure? Will we have enough to pay for
it?

During the twilight of Gat Jose Rizal's life he was in awe of the Philippine's
beauty, to which he called "the lost Eden." All praises from the infamous poet for
our Beloved Philippines. In his fight, he taught us that there is no better weapon
than intelligence and no other stronger force than one's heart. Although
his pen was his sword, in every page, he outlined the phrases and idioms— in the
principles of love.

While we are driven by the highest altruism, hate and madness accompanies it, that
fuels us to fight for freedom and our rights. There is a right kind of anger— the
anger coming from the place of love. The hate that comes from wanting to pursue for
the good of all. The agony that tears and waters down our commitment, and the
hatred that comes from opening up our eyes to the reality.

We are no martyr poets, our fight does not end with words alone. The true war is in
the street; in the communities where help is not in sight, in houses that dont feel
like home, in institutions where knowledge is scarce, in women and children where
fear is evident in their eyes, and in the youth losing hope for the motherland— the
real battle is in the society.

We will actualize the proses of revolt and let our heart burn for socialism,
sovereignty, human rights, and progressive ideologies. The literature will be the
bridge and sentence the fields of activism. As we wave up the placards tinted in
red inks, it will reflect in the sun as the dripping blood of the lives lost
because of a greedy and crooked system. Although, phrases are short, may it afflict
the comfortable, bother those who sleep soundly at night, and the privileged.

I used to ask how long will our love for our country endure? Endless, we showed our
resilience through the test of time. In an era where we are tamed by democracy, it
showed us that to embody nationalism and be humane, is to get a hold of our
principles. No coward heart is daunted to fight for humanity and no resolute spirit
will turn its back to loyalty. So we continue being fiercely angry at injustice,
and raise our hands mid-air, fist up.

Sometimes the heart goes weary, but amidst it all, hope is never lost. In our moral
compass, there is always a room for love to exist. The kind of love that will stand
up when our feet no longer can and the kind of love that awaken the strength we did
not know we had. Sacrifices and life, risking is crucial, however, he who loves;
thus, he suffers. Always choose to put tenderness in the sharpest regard— to love
is revolutionary.