Eulogium

Tight as 9/11 - that's how shut my world was
Away from the abuses - verbal abuses as loud as the Krakatoa eruption
A destructive explosion enough to break every bone

Explode every blood vessels, and rip off every muscle from million miles away
"What's with the sporadic abuses?" I'd asked myself
Why so abrasive? Why so unkind?
Why am I scorned upon over the mistakes that were not mine?
Punished as I walk every Swedish mile; escaping from the remainder of my past
Until you make me fall in love with the defiance of anger
Spellbound by the thought of revenge, but it is not revengement that I delve for
It is a calumet of peace that I contrive - a contentment in life
Perhaps one day, having them read a poignant eulogy
Of a mutilated personage; shunned and left to trade zingers in solitary
The one who became noble and serene

Whose entries aren't about any pageant queen

A fiendish scream or a charlatan's scheme

-PRK-

Within The English Village

As I walk down the streets, wide and narrow streets, l often imagine them
Braving trashings, insults, death threats, batons, teargas, water cannons, the works
And with thousands of riot police trying to break up the protests and strikes
A force to be reckoned with, me, as part of them, hope to perhaps make history again
A history where behind the cloak of fear,  the gale of creative destruction would be unleashed
To be set free to put an end to the unrealistic demands, the catastrophic social implications and the political games of those from every sides of the divide

Of course in my mind, I'm very much controlled,
I'm very much prepared to rein in the masses against the authoritarian rules and religion
Ready for the straight journalistic report of the biting satire and classical literary themes
If not ever-ready to dance along to the euphoric political rallies 
But these are just my imaginations, my wish and hope to be the vanguard of change
And often I wonder, would it have meant a triumphant journey if I know what exactly am I defending, what exactly am I fighting for

Often I don't
Often I'm torn
Often all I see is a thin line instead of a silver lining
Often we all don't
Often we are still trying to comprehend what transpired the previous day's curiosity 
And often it's the biased ideologies
Within the English village
In which we are often bullied into submission, to keep mum
By the ruling elite and the flawed system

-PRK-

She Found Peace

They told her,

"Breathe, and get your mind off it.
Sleep under the star, don’t let your mind lose it.
Accept imperfection, practice mindfulness.
Don’t sweat the small stuff, and live with no regrets."

And so she remained cool, remained calm and let them drool
Acted fooled when they claimed she’s under-ruled
Such depression made her lend a barf
Turned her head around, whispered,

"That's enough."

And so she took a bath by the candlelight
She meditated by the neon light
She let her feet take her towards the pink strobe light
Smiled when she saw those idiots slipped by the mountainside

And she thought,

"Oh, they were right. Be present in the moment, leave the past aside."

And so she found the good in all situations and laid on the grass
Embraced her freedom and held her head up with class

-PRK-

Then... She Cried

She gave it a whirl
Ignored the whole world
In bed when she breathe
She would grit her teeth
Anxious maybe
But definitely heavy
The way she thinks
The way she drinks
And she did feel empty
She did miss him crazy
Yet she felt the sorrow
When she visualize her tomorrow
He came with class
With ice cubes in his glass
She was just a girl
With plans in a twirl
As much as it hurts
She needed the perch
She needed to find herself
Before it strikes twelve
She wasn't Cinderella
Nor did she need an umbrella
She's strong and she tried
But then... She cried

-PRK-

The August Plot

Though the voice was somehow silenced

The soul was resilient

As the wish was obeisant

And the act was independent

Despite the stifles

The wrathful riffles

Gushing through spirals

Playing against the snivels

Flouting the agony

Drowning the ecstasy

Murdering the spawns

Mistreating the fronds

Still the shrieks were garish

The riles were robust

Engrained fear in our nemesis

Smothered them, brewed them powerless

Happy 57th Independence, Malaysia

-PRK-

Converged

Stirred and converged when the echo came through

With a stir that converges half the legion that bunk through

Violations of emotion that toured black and blue

In the midst of all gagas, shins and that truce

Between preaches and the preacher of faith that weakens their soul

When it's theoretically crafted to kindle the cold

But it's getting old with governmental whoremonger and gist

Of murderous thoughts swimming in the mist

You see they make us pass judgment through narcotised conversation

And they make us detest the diabolic population

Like it's a rule of engagement between a racemose sentence

Except it's a fatality of a pacification

Between self and self only; no questions asked

Until the mud is absolved and duly surpassed

-PRK-