I am an Indonesian poet. Familiar is called Isykariman, known through his poems that use the figure of speech and romantic words.
Silvery light unraveled strands by strands to warm my nape, fortify the wind from loose lips so as not to contaminate my sense of hearing.
Amethyst Green gaze was gripping but managed to hide the secret of my charm. Pearls that inevitably dangle in their maroon, like a full-of-pride vanity defense sign that I don't need pawns like you.
My cheeky lips are adept at speaking words. The orange court was defeated and subjected to every word. My kiss never sleeps; it can detect wherever the mixed-blood escapes.
I am the owner of magic in one finger. The nan crystal butterfly accompanied me with an oath of loyalty without having to betray his Lord.
The robe of the Goddess, like Dione who must be willing to lose her soul mate, Aphrodite must also be prepared to lose her beauty. I am the most capable usurper, swallowing to the roots of beauty, which makes myself increasingly eternal.
I walked with certainty without splitting the fragments of sorrow that had eliminated the angel's bead.
This mega diamond, the owner of the night, is the one who plugs in, motoring my body so that I don't feel tired. My brain is only able to remember only two nominal, one and all of it. I am the only one who is ready to conquer the world, and I must master all of it.
There is an unrelenting work. And I call it a chest of memories, a treasure chest that unites me until your vocal cords are no longer able to vibrate.
There was a musical sound that tricked the evening until the palm was flying, and I called it the singing box. A unique ballot box, and only mine.
Some cut the heart as if a pair of your eyes flowed into the Red Niagara, and I call that in written man's letters. Handwriting firm, and deadly.
But I'm still a woman with a mosquito net, friends with warmth, and tenderness, even though you call it falsehood.
I am a pearl that was not introduced by God in diamond diamonds. I am a solar master who was not introduced by God to Betelgeuse, so like the sun, I felt myself was the most worthy of adoration.
I was a life that God did not introduce to Asgardia. I was a Blue star that God did not propose to Venus, so as a creature named man, I was reluctant to be shed from his comfort zone.
I am a Rada that God did not introduce to Krishna. I was a bait spreader that God did not propose to Vishnu, so as a woman, I do not know, if it has wrongly dropped my heart, then my life ends.
Millennium Liquid and Pink Dew
Have you ever heard a bedtime story in a cloud country? I mean a fairy tale that tells the story of the Millennium liquid dripped with Pink dew.
Legendary tales even juxtaposed with the four axes of the Goddess Athena's throne. A fairy tale that I have repeatedly told the children at night.
You don't like to have to hear it. Millenium Liquid is a figure that never thought of by the full night. Extremely pure liquid, without falsehood, rhymes until finally shed by a ruthless witch.
Millennium Liquid: Is there a drop of beauty on the other side?
The heart of an untouched, by the wind that spoiled souls in the silence of that night.
Until one day, the Millennium fluid felt very bad. The poison seemed to paralyze him. But who would have thought? Do not you, and even the Creator did not feel willing.
God: You were not created to be like this, the liquid of the Millennium!
Tttssss, it was the first time that the Millennium liquid was dropped by Pink dew. It did not take long, and they were fused in brief seconds. A surprise that made both of them grateful to the Creator.
Not! The Millennium Liquid never imagined that it would be dripped by Pink dew. Conversely, Pink liquid also never believed that he would be poured into a container filled with the scents of sincerity.
I don't know, who is the Millennium liquid, and who knows who Pink dew is? Nobody cares even their children and grandchildren.
It's just that the children of the night who always listened to me told me were reluctant to fall asleep, they instead chose to watch, how the Millennium liquid and Pink dew spent the rest of their lives, living together forever.
© 2019 Isykariman Biridlwanillah