There was a moon shines in the noon
There was a sky full of a cry
There was a star shining in the sky
There was a land covered by blood  
Their voice do not echoes their cries
Silenced night  
Voices of thousands hands
They speak the language of God
Hmmmm what's wrong
The bottle between right and wrong

its not a poem, just a reminder I’m still here
Trying
Fighting
Not giving up
screaming for help
But i guess no one can hear me.

Last time,
with lost grief,
I kept thinking of something,
that never found an answer.

The day I asked the universe:
Why? Why do you never let the world drive by itself—
without your rules, without its taste?
But silence whispered, unexplainably,
Or maybe.. I just didn’t hear.

I see people moaning,
“Oh God! Please call me to yourself!”
But you never call them.

I see people crying,
“Oh God! Please forgive my mistakes, spare my life!”
But I guess... they are your favourites.

From here, from there,
I wonder...
Why do they both ends the same way?
Both cries, only perspectives apart :
one wants to stay, while other wishes to leave.

I asked the universe again:
Why? Why do those who wish to live, eventually leaves...
while those who wish to leave, eventually stays?

Guess what? These questions covered up in the silence again..

It’s been months, unanswered...
Or maybe it’s just unexplainable.

Maybe the universe breathes in paradox.
And that itself is the answer.

—Parisha