Rebellion Poem by Titon Rahmawan

What is this nonsense? We're not here at the moment. At least, we don't expect to be. Trying to get out of what people think of themselves. All this futility. The earth we walk on is slowly burning.

Is that the kind of statement you want to write? You shout? Will it end up in vain? The rebellion of desire. There is no sanctity or half-truth.

All that nonsense is fake. The hatred that people cultivate from their own disbelief. A conflict of the soul, an inner struggle, or whatever you want to call it. Where will they go? After years and centuries of waiting. Will we find our way or will we forever be lost?

For too long we have slept in the illusion of this madness. This rage. Things we don't believe to be true. Everyone looking for their own truth. Ignorant and indifferent to each other.

Do we feel lucky with our ignorance? With all our naivety? Accepting everything without being able to fight back? Have we been blinded by pseudo-reality, which does not touch our very essence?

What kind of truth are we still debating? What authenticity are we still looking for? Those of you who feel poor, who are still confined by suffering. Arise, live, lift your own burdens! If you have not been able to lighten the burden of others.