O sky
ask him
why he created this piece of heart...
so fragile and easily wounded...
when faced with the thorns of love
so strong and sturdy
when covered in love and hope...
Why did he create affection and longing
in this heart...
filling the emptiness in it
leaving anxiety about the figure of the lover
raises a myriad of questions
menghinpun million hopes
giving encouragement...
also leaves an untold pain
why he creates anxiety in the recesses of the soul
restlessness in the recesses of the soul
clutching at images
suffocating the chest...
helpless against the turmoil that hit...
O weeds...
Have you ever felt this excruciating feeling...
Why are you silent?
Tell me
a word that can soak the turmoil of this heart...
something that this body feels...
as a remedy for uncontrollable pain.
The swish of the wind makes noise to you
as if there's something you're saying to me
I don't know what you mean
Just guessing... your whisper
says there's someone over the hill there...
waiting faithfully...
appreciating what love means...
a heart that has fallen and been wounded
tore the night incised a thousand sorrows
I flapped my broken wings
following the passing wind
plugging the longing...
in the corner of a frozen heart...
she cracked, shattered like a mirror shard
scattered...
before being lost in the wind...
while bowing weakly...
I tried again to scavenge the rest of my heart
mixed with dust
