Egi D. Perdana
(i-Xiii) Chapter X Arbitrate Pain - Poem by Egi D. Perdana
The twenty fifth year, fused the old city born from a cauldron of a little
in the midnight lined in four the gloomers
the bell was ringing to sign the mourning following the banging of riffles
some soldiers wrote their stories on the concrete asphalt
pray for the generations to come will arbitrate pain from the everlasting war.
a hair flew away reaching up the beaming moon
but she fell floating on the mudpuddle by the gravity
the harder she tried the stronger she got stucked in pain
she remembered: not all the failures are painful, to get stabbed doesn't necessary mean to get killed
closing her eyes thrusting in the earth she said 'I wanna arbitrate pain, to make peace with it'
I was on a crossroad full of crowds, the street named love
a place that in fact stinks with the death of love itself
a place where lovers cheapen the yearning, a place where people put a stake upon their feelings
what am I doing here? I can't even grasp a love
I wanna go somewhere else and let me arbitrate pain that lingers from the envy of them.
As the evolution of anxiety affected emotional feeling, time goes on bright
I can't believe that we are in the forty ninth century, eight years times two hundred and forty two of our missery
a quite long time that can make us a coral as well as a dust
be optimistic! as far as we go, in the end we can make happiness and sadness go along well, I said
But what you said was 'after we arbitrate pain, is it the end of everything? No, it's then a waste! '
You don't want to accept me although I built prose as high as a mountain for you
that's why the prose broke down then turned into invaluable, even less than invaluability
slayed and died for it was too painful for the prose
shouldn't it be you to understand very well what is death like?
and don't you feel mercy on it for trying to arbitrate our pain? so love me back.
Comments about (i-Xiii) Chapter X Arbitrate Pain by Egi D. Perdana
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye