Masterpiece: Zaini Dawa
I have planted a name in my grip
I have thrown it to the air to change a strom to breezy prayers
Calling you with dew language
giving boisterous denial at the end of the leaves
And dripping a pity and sad sense at fullmoon night.
I have thrown it to the air to change a strom to breezy prayers
Calling you with dew language
giving boisterous denial at the end of the leaves
And dripping a pity and sad sense at fullmoon night.
The seed has disappeared at the beach
And returned by a lump of wind in a mess
I am struck by the cross wheel of the world
And you're stuck above the grave of hope.
And returned by a lump of wind in a mess
I am struck by the cross wheel of the world
And you're stuck above the grave of hope.
A pink yarn instanly changed into dark red
Like the sun immersed in the sea closing the story.
Before the light is complately refracting the colours of bianglala
Like the sun immersed in the sea closing the story.
Before the light is complately refracting the colours of bianglala
This fracture is no more painful than the morning star's whisper
Prejudice suppresses the silence of night,
paralyzing the praise sentences.
A quiet laughter is cold with its own light
A light in one grip unwanted night.
Prejudice suppresses the silence of night,
paralyzing the praise sentences.
A quiet laughter is cold with its own light
A light in one grip unwanted night.
Save your tears ..
Leave me...
please..!!
Leave me...
please..!!
Madura
The 13th of january 2020
The 13th of january 2020
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