Farhan (?!)

hazim- one smart knowledgable man, like said by someone.....

"Farhan takde kerje"

-ZiM

This Blue

A field of maiden grass,
Of patches from the tromps of survivors,
Of giant entrances,
And liquidized views,
I see the stars,
On top of you.

A bed of opposites,
Directions connect,
But I digress,
And stare at the speck,
When the eyes turn warm,
And the heart turns wild,

But the face is as soft as a yaks

To own this land,
The green and parched,
While heavens bounty,
Are left untouched.

I seek to call your name,
To call you by one,
But to forget is the same.
The wrong things are written on the table,
A slight remark, a witty fable.

"Hold my hand as it falls into space"
While rockets fall and turtles race.

So I came back,
To a house of indifference,
But that lead to a place,
Of might and complacence.

A falling star,
A supernova in the veneer of a blush,
I seem to talk to you,
As though my love for you,
Is to love a rush.

Cause you would leave me forever,
Where as the option of staying isn't mine,
"What has it done to you?"
Only choices - made divine.

To speak is an art,
Harms the soul and mind,
Of misleading lies,
You thought to be divine,
Logic has a heart,
Only recklessness, the faith that undermines.

How to miss a white horizon?

Have I been turning my back to the sun?

The sun that only comes out at night?

"I want your number, if that's all right"

Hell is near, tangible and there,
So why is heaven so far, so out of reach,
Yet everywhere?

And then I walked upon a flower,
Guilt was my salt,
Why did I leave it there?

And it wilts,
While Sirius sparkles down hopelessly,
I wanna say,
That even if all good is at bay,
It will never disappear,
Just like the moon today.

Embrace black embroideries,
That reminds you of coal,
A dictatorship,
In the hill of a mole,

It is a blessing that you can't read my thoughts.

It's just that one thing led to another,
Relevant to all, and connected to the other,
And as I hold in my arms a figure of the eternal,
The devil goes on "For what shall make you detrimental,
Is a prosecution, and it too a tradition"

I miss you, you know that

This blue,
This sky that we forget to look up to,
We are not reaching the stars anymore,
Just a straightforward journey of finding doors.

This blue,
The water that cleanses,
Before the morning dew,
Eyes half-closed and the carpets are dense,
I want to hear you,
To listen to a view.

This blue,
An aura under a machinery of current workings,
Beggars who wait by public phones,
Because hope is something you cannot really see isn't it?
The beauty of Grace, is that it leaves you alone.
Sometimes the beauty of Grace, is that it makes life unfair,
I will pretend that you're not there.

To alleys incandescent and racial riots.

Dah nak subuh.