Z@n

Unofficial Writer Existential and Philosophical Writer a poet

[zan-nazfa]

"I destroyed everything - including myself when there's nothing left."

[zan-nazfa]

"Perhaps justice isn't about whats right. The beyond of evil and goodness."

[zan-nazfa]

Wonder - Apples

"The apple dropped onto the ground, and i was no scientist nor thinker, but a poet wonder if things were supposed to be, cruel -- and goodness."

[zan-nazfa]

"Though I hath sinned, I prayed. for such prayer - not need an endearing soul."

[zan-nazfa]

Unconditional Presence - O god

Unconditional Presence

“God asked ye, hath thou reached the itch?”

“For thy hand art pulling even the string of sins.”

“Through the rage of stars.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was mundane, to be completely honest. The world didn't have the slightest of change nor mercy. The time itself went linear and everyday is like today. Like a broken recorder on repeat, It was orbiting.

…yawn.

The cloud swayed through with no hesitation, whispered by the kisses of the winds. The flattery of it even caresses through these ragged outfits of mine, as if to woven the bare proof of its existence onto these fabric. My hair, which was undone, was no exception.

My eyes gazed up on the sky, seeking redemption far beyond this flattery. It was searching for the single source of true romance - the very existence of the sun bored my eyes away. Meh, they say “Stare into the abyss, and the abyss shall do the same in response.”

O god, or abyss, do these twin moons that yearn for full moon be bare naked to the sins of the heaven? For I was a humble servant true in his own path searching for something I never had, never grasp, never to be seen. Was my greed stretched greater than these winds could reach, or do flattery take me to neither. “Was death a greater expectation than my redemption?”

Oh these teaseful fates have met me with a single peculiar man. His face was enough to convince a fool, and make the god love them better. His legs trembled with the flattery of the winds, and the sun was ordered to not be laid upon him. Though the moon weeping him in the reflection of a puddle, those tears which birth the bride and loved the fools.

My eyes grow colder – not hesitant like those winds.

My hand reached lower – to praise the tears. A coin – O god with his expectation. What could this servant do? only to bring these two hands and pray. “O god, these hands could only do so much – not to count these tears. For you, we prayed. And thus, thy promises are welcome to be granted to those fools.” To not count these tears, but to honor thy love which I hath never owned. Does the sinful servant hath no right to pray upon you? A mockery – when all souls have sinned through the rage of stars. Does a simple act of prayer take off a beautiful soul, do we forget we prayed for goodness not the act of beauty? Not the sole reason for an endearing soul?

Thus in tears, I bring my hand to the air.

[zan-nazfa]

Shall be - Or shall not

"We pushed to the edge of existence, and bowed lower to thousands of things. Money, Tall buildings, Fancy Clothes. at first, I prayed that all humans will be thrown into hell. O thou ought to be careful for such thing are irrelevent.

cause we all will cease to exist one day, and it will be the greatest gift. for human."

[zan-nazfa]

Death–Hue of the Hail

Death–Hue of the Hail

“Death, something are taught to be afraid”

“We can't give any reason for doing so”

“Or it’s human to be scared onto what we couldn't understand”

—------------------------------------------------

Ah!

The wallet dropped right on my hand, thankfully. I caught it right on time, before it fell into the sewers. Otherwise I would go bankrupt for the whole week.

I had almost lost my breakfast there. Would the world want the little change in my wallet, I wonder.

“What if my wallet were to fall into the sewers?”

My gazed turned into the muddy sewers, the thought relish in my mind. The water gush through rapidly, with each of the layer collide with each other. Enough with the sewers.

My steps filled through the surrounding, with each become a rhythm of quiet song. The city–strangely grow silent in the early morning, with only chip of the birds ringing.

Then, My twin moons spotted a man with rugged clothes, lying onto the medium sized cardbox. He struggled to hug his knee closed to his chest, to remain inside the box size.

…would I become like him?

If my wallet would fall earlier.

A lump of pity become a whole in my lung, catching my breath slightly. The knowledge of me barely escaped the impending death, filled me with terror.

The man repeatedly said; “Please”.

I grab a little change in my wallet, and gently put it on his opened palm. It is a pitiful sight, regardless.

Without hasting, I rose up and walked towards my destination. The world once again went silent, even with the chippers of the bird. My mind dwells onto the random thoughts, distracting me from the impending long road. …splash

My feet planted deep into the puddle. It must have been bad luck for today. As if God wasn't satisfied with my deed, wishing for something more wishful. I bent down to my knees, only to wipe the stain on my pants–a futile doing.

These stains wont undo with just wipers from flesh.

Then I noticed a gap in my pocket, an empty sensation grazed by the wind. My wallet dropped right behind me as I turned around. Once again, death creeped in and left. And the puddle has been a god’s way of saving me.

Death crept in, yet God has saved me.

Like heaven and hell dwelling on its goodness.

Maybe it wasn't a message, but a story. The relationship between red and blue, white and black, sky and ground, heaven and hell, life and death.

Zero and infinity.

[zan-nazfa]

"I have chased those what i don't have, while losing of what i have."

[zan-nazfa]

Greed Green Goblin

Greed Green Goblin

“Humans won't ever be satisfied.”“Because they’re greedy.”

—--------------------------------------------------

“The sky didn't turn out the color I wanted.”

The sky stretched to the horizon, mirroring the shade of the sea. The collision between waves sent a rhythm of quiet song. The cloud resembled the shape of an apple.

I tilted my face upward, gazing onto the sky with these twin moons. As if yearning for something, a miracle.

As if, the beauty of the scene did not fully satisfy me.

Might as well widen my mouth, who knows if heaven would bestow the earth with another apple.

…..aaaaahhhhh…

A drop of rain fell onto my tongue - perfect shot.

From an apple to a droplet. This so-called god’s mockery?

Or was it just human greed stretched greater than this sky?

[zan-nazfa]

"I was a fool, and ascended to another greater fool."

[zan-nazfa]

Unseen, Untouchable and Unheard - Love

[ as though thy eyes were like water reflecting the very sinner like mine naked. {} thy cheeks were the curved sphere of moons and it burnt with molten golden - similar to a sunset. {} those red lips like wine - a mockery of temptation Wore smile bright as ravaged stars {} And thee were like summer, in winter and thou same like winter, in summer. ]

[zan-nazfa]

Poet - body, heart and soul

[A poet – They have the eyes of an observer

Someone who’s been in mother’s love

And heard the stern tone of a father]

[It is not as grand as you might think

And it is as not bored as it is

They see those what simple cant explain

And become a storyteller - perhaps mostly to themselves]

[They desire the unseen, untouchable and unheard

Some may call it love, some may call it hatred

Does poet’s hand never did claim as their own

When their eyes sees the essence of everything]

[Or is it that nothing is truly ours

is it that we keep chasing what we don't have

that we lose what we have?]

[zan-nazfa]

Loud in Silence

O ye who hath suffered,

Doth thy sins soar in the loudest – or in the silence of grief.

O ye who unguarded by love,

Doth thou yearn like a poet – or in the silence of grief.

O ye who have yet eaten,

Doth thou ravaged through the puddle – or in the silence of grief.

For in the silence of grief, is the loudest thing in the world.

[zan-nazfa]

The Fallen Apple from Above

The Fallen Apple from Above

"Since birth, their legs hath been forced onto the strings"

"To decide, mockingly, which side will thou fell?"

"Curse god's expectation, as if there promises onto these newborn soul."

---------------------------

"So, have you decided yet?"

sigh

The aroma of the coffee filled the surrounding with bitter pale sweet scent. My eyes glance into the cup, which i am holding gently with my little hands. The blackness, a void, pulling me in as the fluid collide between each layer.

"Blackhole". I muttered softly.

The waiter had tired eyes, with the expression impending onto the choices which I am late to decide. I felt a lump of guilt in my throat, to halt and waste his time. Regardless, the aroma is pulling me again, like a black hole.

"blackhole". I muttered softly, again.

The waiter's patience runs thin, his expression shows a confusion onto these words I chose. He ran through the menu, looking for a dinner named "blackhole". I pulled back slightly, giving him access to the menu card. What if he were to ask the meaning of my words? I don't even know why I repeat it, like a human was made to crash into the same brick wall again and again.

but,

"alright then, if that's all your order is. I will bring it in another 10 minutes." That's what he said.

He walked away with a natural expression, carrying his steps like his job. It was never about the job, It was responsibility. The weight of your shoulder, the sheer strength of willpower, that's what carved in his eyes.

Save the chit chat about the waiter, I began to go through with the paper which was assigned to me. I was never here just to say "blackhole" all the time.

...sigh

Another sigh yet once again. My hand grazed onto the edge of the paper, the texture gripped my heart like a reminder of the workload I need to finish before the due date.

"I wonder if this white ash paper will turn red crimson."

Once again, nonsense filled my mind. Maybe, to distract myself from the work. Or to reveal the unraveled truth under these white pale ashen paper. .....would the paper turn crimson red?

As my mind drifted slowly into the random thoughts, my eyes caught the gliding molten golden of the moonlight. The coldness etched to the veil of my skin, as if longing to prove its existence, even for a brief time. I gazed up to the sky, struggling to find my trail of eyes

Weird. The moon shouldn't be this bright.

It is safe to think AT LEAST that the world doesn't want red crimson paper. The moonlight shone, exaggerating the white ash color of the sheets. Too bad, today, I don't have white ink. Neither the world.

"Does this mean that the world denies my desire?"

"Or does God's expectation know better?"

"Like the apple from above."