The only left behind is a time
Sacrificed me for the saint
Being good with women,
who stole the soul of a man.
That man showed kindness afterward,
That man hiding madness inward.
Nothing left to look forward to,
No void to fill, no time to waste.
The endless steps of growing up
Reaching things to level up
What else? and, what else?
What next? and, what next?
The same questions on different days,
without no one telling the truest answer.
Life goes so dark in the morning.
The shine of sun, telling me to get up,
I am not ready yet. So I closed my eyes.
The birds start singing songs that I won’t hear.
So I closed my ears.
The smell of bustle makes me cough.
So I closed my nose.
Those things happened day by day, year by year.
Not decided on anything. Just cursed it.
Not wanting to change any, just praised it.
The others try to get me in their cycles.
I mess up. Not because of the others.
It’s because I am mad at myself.
I can’t stop the time.
Then, just cursed it and praised it
as a perpetual act to reflect me.
Why is it so hard to express your sadness?
It is humiliating at the same time.
Who’s told life is tough?
Who’s told growing up means hiding your emotions?
So sick to keep the emotions away.
It’s like burning your own heart.
Slowly but surely, the heart becomes ashes.
It signs you grown-up completely.
What can we take from the ashes?
Except for realizing you’re too late,
to realize that to grown is to burn yourself.
I Love Means You’ve Already Given Yours to It
Then, Time will not understand
how the space needs processing.
Also, The Space in the same place,
will not understand how time moves so fast.
We know, we never stop the time,
but when you reach the time with your space,
and both are mixed;
You will see how time no longer exists
and the space you live in,
Can’t stop you from being a time traveler.
Massive Events in a Tiny Head
Walk along on memories
Lie down on fantasies
Stretch out some old dreams
Stuck a while, from that screams.
A nihilist runs to New York.
While an optimist dreamt, to live in the countryside.
Both are looking for something or meaning.
For peace or being; on the moon or on the grave.
Both are sacred places to escape in,
For anyone who hangs their life on dreams,
and for those who suffer in life because they have no dreams.
Editor: Moch Aldy MA