User talk:Gil samaco jr: Difference between revisions
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Synchronism (talk | contribs) m Reverted edits by 122.144.111.97 to last version by Pyrrhus16 (HG) |
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"He was The only writer in Cagayan de Misamis; was a young boy who wrote poetries using |
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our dialect. Oh, how will I forget the way he reminded me when the American forces battled |
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the forces of General Nicolas Capistrano, but many thought he vanished with the gunpowder |
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that blasted the cannonballs of both forces, and many thought he vanished for good. When in |
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fact, he fled the scene of an almost impossible escape when the hand of angels pushed him |
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into to steep mountainside that made him unconscious for one hundred and nine days, and he |
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was the only surviving witness of the war and his papers, along with the poetries, burned |
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by the Americans who wanted to distinguish the unprepared revolutionary crafters. It was |
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painful of course, but the jesuits must smoothen the way. Of course, they must.There were |
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thorns that had stung the Moors, they ruled these lands before, but they cannot accept the |
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legitimate change that time shed. They wanted to resurrect their kingdom because they too, |
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and their culture, were ruins now of history, but no kingdom ever stood without falling. |
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This too, is God's design." |
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Why would the People believe him, an ordinary young man? Not even in the Moor's point of view. |
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the moor stopped to understand what must become, because they were locked in, |
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You said he fell in a mountainside... last part...the contemplations were in the home of |
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Capistrano where the image of horse , balay ng bato died during the Battle of Agusan hill, |
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when he actually fled in a sanctuary that later became a place visited by people and visions. |
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I don't know whether the Japanese knew how much he was to me. But he was more than that. |
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I remember the terminal because this was the place we last saw each other. |
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> there is a difference, if you said that it is your destiny, and it is your will |
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since it is not our will be God's be done...so if i choose mine, i will keep |
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on revolving without evolving. |
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Manong drew his face closer to the lady, and the tears in her eyes were so filled with |
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purity that she looked as if, she was in her Nirvana. All that was left in history crampled |
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Revision as of 05:02, 26 January 2009
"He was The only writer in Cagayan de Misamis; was a young boy who wrote poetries using
our dialect. Oh, how will I forget the way he reminded me when the American forces battled the forces of General Nicolas Capistrano, but many thought he vanished with the gunpowder that blasted the cannonballs of both forces, and many thought he vanished for good. When in fact, he fled the scene of an almost impossible escape when the hand of angels pushed him into to steep mountainside that made him unconscious for one hundred and nine days, and he
was the only surviving witness of the war and his papers, along with the poetries, burned
by the Americans who wanted to distinguish the unprepared revolutionary crafters. It was painful of course, but the jesuits must smoothen the way. Of course, they must.There were thorns that had stung the Moors, they ruled these lands before, but they cannot accept the legitimate change that time shed. They wanted to resurrect their kingdom because they too, and their culture, were ruins now of history, but no kingdom ever stood without falling. This too, is God's design."
Why would the People believe him, an ordinary young man? Not even in the Moor's point of view. the moor stopped to understand what must become, because they were locked in,
You said he fell in a mountainside... last part...the contemplations were in the home of Capistrano where the image of horse , balay ng bato died during the Battle of Agusan hill, when he actually fled in a sanctuary that later became a place visited by people and visions. I don't know whether the Japanese knew how much he was to me. But he was more than that. I remember the terminal because this was the place we last saw each other.
> there is a difference, if you said that it is your destiny, and it is your will since it is not our will be God's be done...so if i choose mine, i will keep on revolving without evolving.
Manong drew his face closer to the lady, and the tears in her eyes were so filled with
purity that she looked as if, she was in her Nirvana. All that was left in history crampled