Justice for everyone

Would it exist in real life?

Or just a mere fantasy?

For those eyes to see

Perfectly imperfect

As the pieces of heart to collect

Heaven in a utopia world

Hell in a dystopia world

Whether good or bad deeds gained

Justice and injustice are somehow — intertwined

Flying never been this easy

They move from one place to another

With the pairs of their wings

Lighten up your surround as always

One light, a hundred beautiful days are about to come

The yellow part shares its warmth

Giving a sign of God’s art — especially at night

It hurts, but it heals

Everything seems blurry

Since the first day, it comes

We shouldn’t be hurry

Hope gives us happiness

It’s not like reading vocabulary

Indeed, it must be less

From the dirt to the moon

Then meet our hope in that afternoon

Where those magical voices appear

When the sky is crystal clear — the universe is here

It seems uncertain

On the surface of the sea

Another atmosphere from the bay

Neither me nor him to be

As the tears of the raindrops

That always leaving petrichor

For more than hours

Suddenly bump into each other

In the meantime

My reflection says — the rain and the sea are meant to be

People dreaming in the nighttime

But what do they chase?

Looking for something better

Something they crave for

While asleep, everyone dreams

While awake, they need more hints

To connect the dots they haven’t ever seen

The dots in every corner of one’s labyrinth

No need to let others down — everyone’s labyrinth is different

All hail to the term of secrets

Once it didn’t exist, everyone might be embarrassed

And no mysteries at all

Or even for Sherlock Holmes himself

But again, whether to betray or believe

Secrets will remain — and somehow intertwine

Uh-oh, so bright! — someone said

Her scent was not full enough

No one would notice it, she thought

She slipped away somewhere safe, wishing to sleep soundly

Kept wondering why it all ended up the same, like a cycle

The end was a new beginning, perhaps?

Pacing around the cycle, from low to high.

Though, it got higher and always

But it seemed the same for her

Wanted to set herself free from the cage

Eventually, the winter came along with a cool breeze

It whispered something she never heard before

She followed its lead, didn’t care about the cold amid the unfairness

Nothing could bother her but a skift

There was a long way down

In doubt, hoping the cool breeze to stay —once again

Shinta Puspita Dewi

Creativity has no boundaries | Fresh Graduate of English Linguistics, Universitas Padjadjaran — Content & Copywriter — British English Tutor

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