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The Silence

The silence comes from both ends,

I don’t know about shattered heart, whether I can mend,

Mine is still hurt, and broken,

She shot an arrow as a token.

I’m standing on the grounds of egoistical hill,

I’m stubborn, and I’m indignant,

Are those mixed emotions my masters, and I am their servant?

I hate fights and debates,
I hate quarrels and squabbles,

I hate bickers and disputes,

Where is serenity when I need you?

A walk in the labyrinth of confusion,

For every end lies the uneasy feeling,

For every end lies the awkwardness of asking, of wanting forgiveness,

For every end lies the hard part of forgiving and accepting,

The end of this labyrinth of confusion is the act of pretending that everything is smooth, pretending things are back to normal whereas it won’t never be.

I’m navigating the waves pretending the rocking isn’t work of the storm,

I’m sailing the sea pretending of the non-existence of this heavy rain,

I’m looking at the vast horizon pretending the dark clouded pattern is of the tranquil blue,

Fire is still there,

I hate those sword crossings we had,

I wish they won’t occur, that I would just concur,

Is this gender differentiation the reason for those battles?

Is the way we perceive our worlds are in stark contrasts?

I see yellow, you see blue?

At the end of it I’d say to you,

“Nothing to worry about, it’s just a storm in a tea cup”

Written at Gombak, on 20th August 2006

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 5th, 2006 at 6:16 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.