(witnessing) The Life Of A Fighter Poem by Gunardi Santoso

He tried to find new words to make up his blackest day.
Without any flickering torch, nor asking sunny sunshine ray.

He lied to keep the truth from sin to create a perfect reality.
A reason to fill him in, from any emptiness in his own city.

He cried to wash away all pain to define a new version of story.
Something worth to gain; something worth surpass glory.

I witness a big tide in his heart, despite the reason to tear apart.
I witness his way to realize, despite the reason to compromise.

He tried to find a way, under the shade of gray.
He sought for an answer; but the distance still going further.
I am just a witness, I can’t say no more.
Words keeping me in silence since I am frozen in adore.

I can see from his eyes, he will always be a fighter.
He will find a way to regain his honor and taste the flavor.

By witnessing his triumph, such passion grows stronger.
Perhaps…
One’s heart will be amplified as a believer.
Perhaps…
One’s conscience will be pushed to another layer.
And perhaps… (who knows?)
One will be in the hour to experience the world in an inimitable color.

The fighter and the witness befriend with time to gain something sublime.
Perhaps…