It was some time on a Sunday
When morning dews were all to see,
And birds chirping with no dismay
So blissfully for being free.
The sight was splendid, I agree.

Then, when the cool wind came gushing,
A fair lady calmly appeared.
Candelaria, her name being
Of whom this heart of mine endeared,
And is for me highly revered.

She then came running up the hill
Of cogon grass where I stood. In
Awe of such a beautiful feel,
Her body pressed against my skin.
With only nature to be seen,

We were all alone, me and her
In a magnificent landscape,
Where trees almost vividly purr
And the clouds over us, our drape
Clothing us in this sweet escape.

She clutched my hands and so did I,
We laid down together in love.
So humble, our lips then met nigh
They then osculate. She’s above
As both our bodies interwove.

Magic was written everywhere,
Upon the blowing of our dreams,
To the high skies for us to smear,
This moment will forever freeze,
And time will never ever cease.

“I love you, hun,” said I to her.
She replied, “I love you more, hun.”
I breathed deeply and grasped for air
Then kissed her while grabbing a gun
In my pocket. Under the sun,

Scattered brightness is our witness
Of what we have for each other.
Even with impending sadness
Let this pure love of ours gather
The pieces, we will move further.

I pointed the gun on her head.
She smiled back at me with no pain,
She kissed me even more and said,
“I will be seeing you again.”
I pulled the trigger, no refrain.

Bang! Blood was all over her face,
Her lifeless body on the ground.
My Candelaria, sweet to taste
Here I am, to you I am bound.
But suddenly it came around,
Porphyria, a love I confound.