Thursday, 16 August 2012


The writings on the wall,
Never so clear, never so obscure,
Erased by time, only to reveal,
A scar too deep, never to heal.

And the time has come,
For one to become,
Nobody but someone,
True to none, but one.

From nothing, it is therefore,
From nothing, one knows more,
From despair, will arise vigor,
But thereupon, will no more,

If the leaves were meant,
None other than falling,
On the ground and die,
Not to do anything else,
Not to wish no more,

There is more to life,
than what one demands,
More than merely wants,
If only one could see,

If the writings on the wall,
Are what they're meant to be,
Then one must be content,
For now, and hopefully,


- Nazri Awang, 5.05pm, 16 August 2012, Kg Gong Balai.

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