The pouring rain makes the ground wet
my thought flies to forbidden heaven banquet
and we transgress the beauty of gloom
cracking the doors of the forbidden room
A cup of venom wine on trembling hands
waiting for the passions to make it end
Our senses, the fakest dream, rolled up and down
and sins were dancing on us on and on
I left the chapter, drowned into another
like stranded water searching its way out
creeping tiny cracks, crawling over my soul.
The rain draws faces like snow in winter
then I need silence dagger to tear them out
and break this scattered faith into one pole.
Lereng Merapi, December 2010
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