The Pleasantness Of Losing Poem by Ibnu Din Assingkiri

The guilt has surfaced
in a daylight of hypocrisy
each time, each encounter
always a dejavu
I am losing battles
to the same enemy
on the same ground

Told myself,
to fight with all capabilities
no matter how irresistible
the temptation and desire
to drift in ecstasy
of the touch and kisses
in the prison of self destruction

This is a battle, I hardly win
because the enemy travel in the wind
each battle of hardship
in the land full of losers
enjoying pleasantness
of their lost
to cigarettes