Skip to main content

wither

She’s a wild flower
A species so rare
No place she calls home

She despised her silhouette
Even once tried to erase
Her very own shadow under the sun

Oh yet,
Life has decided
To give her a second chance

She just found a place
For her to show her petals
Where creatures would feed off her

She has just about to bloom
And declare significance
Yet the evil wind tosses her away

Life, for her,
Is just about to start.
Yet,
The thunderstorm is drifting her apart.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

irony and its closure

The defense of the self, The denial of the mind, The pain of the heart, And the battlefield inside. Pointing out a statement from Charles Lindbergh, "Isn't it strange that we talk least about the things we think about the most?" It's not okay when you try to not feel. It's okay when you try to feel. It's not okay when you try to not think. It's okay when you try to think. Oh dear, you're thinking too much About trying to not think the thing you're thinking. Maybe we would all be better if we face ourselves head-on. Yes, ourselves. No bigger obstacle than dealing with something you call 'myself'. No bigger energy wasted than to lie to someone you call 'myself'.  The hardest thing to be in touch with, in life, is your own self and all its substances. You live in a world where it's much simpler to ignore your thoughts and feelings for the sake of your emotional stability. Or so you thought. But just so you know. It...
Post a Comment
Read more

the chorus

you stole my dream you stole my dream when the sun sleep i am falling deep you stole my dream you stole my dream the dream i long so long the dream i try to hold on to you stole my dream you stole my dream the void is eating every piece the void is swallowing every oxygen you did not, you did not i'm incapable of understanding
Post a Comment
Read more

pada penyeberangan

Malam itu aku berdiri menghadap penyeberangan. Aku melihat ke depan dan menatap orang-orang yang di seberang. Mereka melakukan hal yang sama. Mereka semua menunggu. Menunggu hingga angka-angka warna merah itu menunjukkan bilangan 0. bukan tempat tujuan, namun sekedar tempat bersinggah bukan tempat yang dituju, namun sekedar tempat menuju menunggu terasa lama, melewati terasa singkat. menunggu terasa lama, merasa pun tidak sempat. semua lalu-lalang ke dua arah yang berbeda akankah aku terdorong ke arah yang berbeda atau bisakah aku sampai di tujuan dengan selamat? aku ingin pulang, aku ingin pulang, kaki ini ingin melangkah, tetapi aku tak sampai, mungkin belum saatnya aku sampai,
Post a Comment
Read more