Lamenta Lingua ____
VOLUME 1
Lamenta Lingua ____
W r i t i n g t h e U n s p o k e n W h i s p e r s o f t h e S o u l "
VOLUME
“There is no time to leave important words unsaid.”
PAULO COELHO
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
firstly, I would like to extend my deepest gratitude to my LELLS Family, both officers and members, for their time and support that led us to the success of this year’s literary folio.
Next, I would like to thank all the aspiring writers that shared their unsaid thoughts and used their creativity in order to lend their voices to this project.
I would also like to thank our wonderful adviser, Mr. Christian Loid Valenzuela, for his unwavering support in the endeavors of our organization.
Lastly, I Would like to say my appreciation to everyone involved for this project to become possible.
May all of your hearts be filled with love and peace.
Sharing lots of love, LELLS Fam!
AEROS RAPHAEL MORALES PRESIDENT, LELLS
EDITOR’S NOTE
Hi there! How’s your heart? I specifically thought about the concept of this literary folio to check on you. I hope you appreciate it, I hope you find this folio as an outlet for your unspoken emotions. You’ve been so brave, I’m so proud of you. Let this folio be a reminder that you are not alone, that there are people who will listen to you. Emotions are better said than kept. Keep going, dude!
HEART MAGSOMBOL BUSINESS MANAGER, LELLS
TRIGGER WARNING: SOME ENTRIES INCLUDE SENSITIVE TOPICS AND CAN BE DISTURBING. READER’S DISCRETION IS ADVISED.
Mayka/Mika/Myka
BY: L. Will
Pick, zip, peak.
Spy, sigh, bye.
Nervousness cracks my inner peace, As it overtakes and breaks me into pieces.
I sat by the table, eating my spaghetti, Tried to run, but he caught me already. "I'll leave this place, please help me out," The maid’s words haunt me, there's no doubt.
I tried to do my best, To tell the others and the rest. The man said, "What did you saw?", I replied, "nothing, that’s all po."
He dragged me inside the car, And gave me the phone to communicate from afar.
He pulled out a gun, And said, "Tell them you saw nothing, or else you're gone."
My spirit is up in the air, As he looks at me with a deadly stare. I needed to lie for a better result, Or I'm dead that's what I thought.
Deep inside, I'm screaming "HELP!", While he says "Shhh..." and continues fixing his belt. My body is shaking, I can't move, and feel like dying.
I know for sure that I'm traumatized for life, And all I can do is follow and not fight. Its sucks that no one is there to protect me. If my mind could speak it, would say, "I'm in pain, frustrated, mad, and scared."
I'm only EIGHT YEARS OLD, What threat do I pose?
You left a deep scar in my mind, It wont heal because it binds.
A memory that makes my heart beat for life, Something that hunts me; always a part of me. Though it's just a thought, it's real to me. This is happening, this is history.
The art of trying
BY: 50736
i started trying. even though i've kept trying, i would end up crying. was it straight-up lying if i said, "i didn't stopped trying"? should i keep trying? my mind's end up dividing. crying for understanding, i kept trying and trying. and then, i kept on trying. when my love for you is blinding, all i have to do is keep trying. even though it's indeed defying, i will end up trying. and so, i ended up trying even if it felt like dying.
Life
BY: ~Elise Rose~
Some people yearn for Light...
Some people yearn for the right, Some people will do anything...
Some people will keep on living.
Just because you breathe... Does not mean you lIve, Just because you live... Does not mean your alive,
Living the liFe...
Living for the life, Living to have a life... Living cause you're alive,
Some peoplE yearn for Light...
Some people year for the right, Some people will do anything... Some people will try to keep on living.
To My Lily:
BY: Darcie Kaye
Like the moon misses the tide
Never quite touching, But always pulled, I miss you.
You linger in between the hush of my heartbeats, In the dim light before I sleep, Where dreams are dauntless, And reality is ruthless.
Your smile lives in the corners of the things I love, Sunlight on the pavement, The scent of rain on tired skin, And the rustle of the leaves.
You are the poem. That my hands never got to write, The "what ifs" I hold like a prayer, Are like a punishment I didn't want.
Sometimes, I wonder... "Do you miss me too?" Or am I just a passing wind, That you never knew blew through?
Oh darling, I would've loved you In quiet ways In silences that speak, In glances that beg, In loyalty that needs no name.
So, here I am. Loving you softly from afar, Missing you like a lover, That isn't truly mine.
And somehow, In this temporary yet quick daydream, You are.
Would Life Be Happy, If I Had Given Up?
BY: Darcie Kaye
How wonderful thus is life if there is giving up—
Letting go of all the fire which once burns me up?
Suppose I had bent over the heavy weight of delay And stated "maybe" while casting away the dreams?
Would the nights really turn softer without the load, Without pressure, without purpose, without pain?
Would laughter come more easily, without the chase-or Would silence come crashing down in place of ambition?
Would I find it easy to find rest without climbing the hill, Exchanging meaning for ease, courage for time?
Would I not measure the days in scars and wins, But learn to accept less than what burns inside?
What if I said: I will just live small-no spotlight, no battle, no rise or fall?
Would my soul stop crying for something more, or would it haunt me behind every door?
People say happiness is found in rest, but I've never felt joy without giving my best.
I've known failure that cracked me in two, But I've also known strength when I fought through. If I had gone at that point really rough, Would I have ever known I'm enough? Enough to stumble and still choose to stand, Shake off the dust with blistered hands?
Will the stars shine again if I quit climbing, If I traded intention for safety? Would I smile and mean it knowing— I elected to flee those dreams that— Once danced inside my head? No.
Life wouldn't be happy with hacked up and none Yet finished stories and races not run.
I need the struggle, burn, test For it is in chasing the heights
That I find my best.
So if you wonder like I once did: Would life be happy if dreams were hid? Hear this truth whispered bold and tough: Life isn't happy when you give up.
FRIEND?! or fiend?
BY: Scoshi
A simple girl who is born
We didn't know it was also an abomination
She was a witch with horns
But she was born in a judgmental nation
People call her names
That's the reason she gather fame
But in the eyes of other, it is just a simple game
The girl's eyes are burning with never-ending flame
A knight wearing a tattered armor
Slowly and slowly, he got nearer
Then he said "do you wanna polish my armor, Amore?"
Naivety, believing the bearer
The knight is poisonous to the divine
Worshipped as a god
She said "this man is all I had"
Not knowing, behind her is him drinking another wine
She had it rough
But she likes it tough
That's what we put, the staff
But the girl got enough so she stopped
Redder Than Red Darker Than Blue Lighter Than You
It is Me, the Reflection of hue
Asking the knight with now a polished armor
A-are y-you?
Areeeee youuuuuu?
Stuttering...
Cluttering... A never-ending question of
Are you my FRIEND?! or my fiend?
Do You Love What You’re Doing?
BY: LovinglyShadow
At first, I loathed you, sharp and cold, Unsatisfied, your story told. My efforts strained, to win your grace, But faults you found, in every place.
My hate grew deep, a bitter seed, Your image, one I'd never heed. Then, words like steel, a piercing dart, "A robot's heart," you tore apart.
The past unveiled, a shadowed scene, Did love ignite, or just convene A hollow drive, for praise's sweet sound, A gilded cage, where truth was bound?
The truth revealed, a bitter sting, Not love of work, but what it'd bring. Now understood, the lesson learned, A thank you whispered, though I burned.
For rudeness shown, a harsh rebuke, My inner self, a fractured book. Reflection's mirror, clear and bright, Revealed the need, to do what's right.
Not just to strive, with tireless hand, But love the task, to understand. The question hangs, a silent plea, Do you, dear self, love what you see?
Anxiety
BY: Luna
My heart races unbelievably
My chest falls and rises visibly
My guts churn and turn
My skin feels the burn
My mouth dried
My tongue tied
My arms numb
My legs dumb
My mind blank
My reality sank
Locked
BY: Luna
I'm tied down by a rope, Someone's losing hope. I'm constantly in shackles, Hearing the never ending cackles. I wrestle with those thick chains, Struggling to break free and switch lanes. If I could only let go, If I could just let go... Every move I make seems wrong, I'm on a tightening leash for so long. Should I cut the ropes? Should I cut my arms instead? There's no telling when it's going to be my head. Please set me free, For I'm longing to see, What freedom will be...
Cartography Where What-Ifs Go To Breathe
BY: HALCYON
There lives a country I cannot leave, bordered by things we almost said. Its anthem is a sigh. Its flag, a question mark stitched with thread from nights we nearly meant more.
We were a theory of closeness a draft with no signature, a flame that hovered politely above the wick. You, the warmth I memorized without permission to burn.
Maybe if I’d turned one second sooner. Maybe if your hands had stayed half a breath longer. Maybe if silence hadn’t felt so sacred, I’d have spoken. Or maybe you’d have heard me anyway.
I wear the maybes like armor fragile but convincing. They keep me safe from the finality of no, and farther still from the risk of yes.
There is a quiet tyranny in potential. It promises everything while delivering nothing but ache. We live there, you and I— somewhere between your almost-grin and my almost-confession.
And isn’t that a kind of intimacy too? To exist in someone’s life as a possibility they never forget but never choose?
So here I stay in the Kingdom of Maybes, ruled by all we didn’t do, praying that perhaps, one day, a maybe might still mean more.
20-18-1-21-13-1
BY: L. Will
It was these endless nightmares, A game of hide and seek I'm not the beast. The prey who hides to giant bears, Imprisoned by memories that never ceased.
It was like the Happy Death Day, That moment was left on replay. Before I sleep at night I pray, While midnight hunts me: the price I pay.
It was these hallucinations—hear and say, Myka's voice was echoing; "tell them one day." It’s my mistake and dishonesty, The things that killed, and saved me.
A moment that stabs me everyday, The memory that boxes me; I'm not okay. To that maid, I'm deeply sorry. To myself, I whisper: Be free.
Two shadows, Minutes of connection. A girl with a demon, And a boy with voices, lost in reflection.
One day, justice will find you.
first existence
BY: Christian Loid Valenzuela
How did you first live?
When you cry out of the womb
Or when you first started to smile?
How did you first fall in love?
When the butterflies start to flutter Or when your heart beats faster?
How did you first die?
When you no longer breathe
Or when no one can remember you?
CLOSING REMARKS
Remember, your words are your power Never forget your words — Lang Leav
Words made up a language that became instrumental to convey our emotions But what if we can't choose the right words or maybe have not seized the moment to use any of them? Silence is a powerful language as it transmit numerous layers of feelings—happy, inspired, sad, disappointed Our silence matter, especially in times where we only need to listen and fathom the words. But not every time we must be silent, especially if moral obligation calls us for it
Words are the weapons everyone possess but cannot fully optimize. There are instances that we lack the words for the feelings or behaviour we want to emphasize rather our body fills the gap instead Whenever our body and words became one, that is the time where we could be better communicators We resonate the intended energy sufficient to our advocacies
Words and body prove our existence in this reality It is through how we put our body in action with the accompaniment of words that we stand firm amidst the chaotically perfect world we all share This amalgamation perpetuates our purpose as to why we existed in the first place
If words turned to be silent, what else could be there? Does it mean that we cannot exist?
Lingua Lamenta, the latest literary folio of the League of English Language and Literature Students, offers a walkthrough to investigate how powerful the words and silence May this folio be everyone's reminder that the words, silence and body are sine qua non for one's existence
CHRISTIAN LOID VALENZUELA ADVISER, LELLS
