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solEmn oaSis Nov 2020
when I write
my feet soaked
it feels like
I'm going down
again into a flooding surface
of those aired headlines!
enough to construct my thoughts
in to an evident words,
trying hard not to get frowned
with how am I supposed to rhyme
telling my self ...why I let my self listen
to the whispers and wails wanders in-depth
even though I just want my flow be clear and shallow!

when I am reading
it pours many horizons I used to love and dwell
those poetry whereby hunger and thirst were filled
everytime I am indeed here in this mysterious world,
incomparable to one another.
just like the most beautiful view,
I can not fled because even whenever
I failed to visit for a long period of time
I just can't reside away from here fellow

I really just don't know when and how
but i am quite sure I have a will to sow
my reads and my writes not to get lost.
relief and lightness wanting to impose
free my heart and mind about my sorrow
*fulfill my being in times of a road narrow
why is that good news
needs to be heard first
Before stating...what is bad news?
I think simply because of W r i s t

— The End —