and there she is,
known as cruel wicked for speaking.
her hair was tied,
her neck was strangled,
her eyes were poked,
her lips were stapled,
her arms were rotated,
her feet were collected,
and she were dressed into something new.
but she did not like it all,
and broke the strings above her.
they called her a demon,
setted her into fire,
darted her heart with spears,
dragger her into venous snakes,
tangled her with ruling hurricane,
just to let her meet their god, lucifer.
yet she is still there standing,
hoping until her last breath—
after all, she is the woman of god
who died from people she devoted for.
"war may be over— but inhumanity remains" ; @wordsbyhami
Apr 1, 2023
Apr 1, 2023 at 9:10 AM UTC
Liars
are the new sarcastics
but they are not informed
that as long as they
throw ironic phrases,
Poets already made them
as a topic for poem
with all figure of speech.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 3:05 PM UTC
I was a lost girl in the Mars—
looking for the crisp melody of air that I can breathe in,
looking for a shivery place to melt my vested warmth that burning as a flame,
looking for mortal who I can able to talk with in the cosmos where I'm the only living thing.
Until he came, an astronaut who saved me from the torment—
he held my hand as we go to his world, the earth:
with a refreshing wind that I used to breath in and out whenever I told myself to calm down as my tears kisses my cheeks,
with a wintry place that I used to experience whenever the atmosphere became cold due of my icy heart,
with someone that I used to talked with who changed when there's a lot of living things fooling around him.
I once a lost girl with my own world and back to it again—
but now, with his universe that filled with metaphors.
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 8:01 AM UTC
Everytime that the lustrous moon's visage apply
as how the stars that glimmering divided in the sky
waiting to perceive a new chapter of tragical book,
that she always utter while descending her tears—
When she's sensing at the antiquated photographs,
titled by their names with date and sugary caption
especially those blessed-satisfactory representation.
She poisoned her mind that he's a gentle saviour
as how he grasps her hands when she fell before,
She reminiscence when he enunciate the word hello,
that gave color to her life but he just left her alone.
She severed her wrist to release her poorly feelings
and filled a pen with her blood that she use to write
her unheard emotions and questions into a paper;
Is it bad if I look to our immemorial representation?
Is it bad if I believe that you're a good-hearted person?
Is it bad if I verbalize your splendiferous sanction?
Is it bad if I cut my wrist to impoverish my emotion?
Is it bad if I wear happy mask to hide my impression?
Is it bad if I didn't fight our love for your satisfaction?
Is it bad if I still love you without any hesitation?
Is it bad if I want you to be yours without limitation?
She asked using literary art from her fragile heart—
as a glass that downward-sloping from the paradise,
Moving swiftly with air, think through being escaped
but directly goes to the pits and broke into pieces.
Sunlights reverberate his faded shades of love for her
make her to reckon his spoken metaphors anywhere,
that slowly killing her willingness to symphathize life,
due of his falsity phrases that stabbed her as a knife.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 7:56 AM UTC
If I told you to let me go— please, don't trust my lyric.
I'm just a woman that have a million of different behaviour and a thousand of difficulty in my head.
The reason why I suddenly said a fortuitous ****** thing that I didn't want to happened.
I told you— don't believe me because I'm just a victim of anger that living inside of my center.
Just grasp my hands tight like you don't wish me to depart so that I will be alright.
Because I don't seek to exit in the sea that filled with my sin.
So please, be my lifeguard— save me from what I've done.
I wish you'll facilitate my spirit and help me because I can't live without you.
I know that it's better to be drown in abysmal ocean or to cut my wrist until I die down than listening to your locution that you letting me go.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 7:53 AM UTC
In a city of excruciating love,
where there's a moon
that shining bright for it's darkness
but that darkness didn't want
to be guarded by the moon's bloom.
And there's a sun that keep in rising
every morning in the eastern part
and falling— in love
every night in the western part
for the sake of her reverse.
To bloom for it's obligations
that never would be the sun.
because both of them are created
to make a day and night,
keep going and tight.
Not to meet each other,
not to be together.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 7:47 AM UTC
Holding ballpen, inks to paper
are comfortable to my hand
writing thoughts that I combine together
that controlled of my optimistic mind.
My feelings more on sorrow
are the topic that I want to write
everyday, later or tomorrow
it will be released by my broken heart.
Your flaws and non-sensibility,
are the reason why I'm gaunt
not physically but emotionally—
I write because of my tired soul.
The voices of my mind, heart and soul
were ignored by the pretending deaf
the reason why I just write at all
and unexpectedly poetry was bleed.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 7:21 AM UTC
I found a treasure box that filled with dusks
that doesn't have a golds or diamonds on it,
but got a simple antiquated photographs
that displayed what occurred on my past life.
The rainbow by refraction of the sun's rays
the times that there's no great challenges
positivity is just living at heart of my personify—
illusory of hope's beauty can make me satisfy.
The star that origin from the southeastern part
the vis-à-vis of waking up and talk to my friends,
counting one to ten while my eyes are closed
seeking their wonderful visages with a curve.
Those flowers in the yard that starts to bloom,
taking it and say he loves me or he loves me not
while eating some soil and collecting the petals,
marked a colourful stains on my vesture.
The moon's gloom that guide me to my home
after a almost a day of playing out-of-door,
and everything will start again tomorrow
but all of what happened is now a part of yore.
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 11:14 PM UTC
Every maiden should severe their wrist
to taste the blood of supremacy that obscure
by the darkened green of connecting veins
like a circled labyrinth that blended with lies—
and hiding the things that they should know.
The reason why they are still living with fear;
fear of touching the grayish blade of the sword
fear of seeing Hades or the gloomy underworld
fear of wearing metallic suit from head to toe
fear of showing braveness and fight like a girl.
Are they afraid to die and meet the hell?
the hell— what's the comparison and contrast
of their living world from the underworld?
I, Athene, the Goddess of Intelligence
can able to answer it with my ruthless words;
nothing—there's no difference between the two
due of their world that filled with darkness too.
So you, mortal, listen to the words of wisdom
it's not bad to taste the red liquid of the art
in your personify that pumped by your heart
telling you to craft it into phrases in your skin
so that you'll know the importance of the pain.
Stand up, use your voice and rule your city
girls are not just girls, would you believe me?
if you don't trust me then learn how I fight
for a resplendent city that named after me
feminism is not a bad thing, young lady—
it's your voice to have freedom and equality.
I''ll end this message with a simple question
would you mind to stick with my footmark
or you'll just go and follow the wrong path?
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 11:14 AM UTC
Never trust a person
if he said that he'll took
the stars and moon for you—
you deserve his universe
not his syrupy metaphors.
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 11:04 AM UTC