"đđżđŽđťđđ˝đąđ˛đˇđ°'đź đ˝đąđŽ đźđŞđśđŽ đ˝đąđ˛đˇđ° đđ˛đ˝đą đŞ đđ˛đŻđŻđŽđťđŽđˇđ˝ đˇđŞđśđŽ."
—ë°ë¤, ë°Šíěë ë¨
perhaps, I am the rain
a cloud couldn't contain any longer—
the firmament's tears,
just bearing another term to be called—
I've got no choice
but to fall and stream down,
for I became too hard to bear
or maybe I am an ocean—
a vessel consists of tears
that I still didn't know
how to release and let go;
and if a person gets close to me,
I might embrace them with my waves
out of excitement,
that I might have them drowned eventually
perhaps,
I am a moon, bearing a different name—
alone, in the midst of this darkness,
but have learnt to shine despite the obscurity
or even a part of a constellation,
that's what I am—
walking in this planet,
I'm a star still searching for that connection
to finally see where I really belong
I am the sadness,
but I can also be the laughter;
the grief,
but also the smiles on the lips
is this the reason
why we sometimes feel lost,
and want to look for ourselves?
for we are everything
in these containers,
and that we are clueless
what's our real identity,
that we somehow feel
we've lost our soul,
and there's a need for us
to search for it
who are we?
we don't even know,
there's more to unfold and discover—
all the high and lows
but what we need is to be prepared
as to who we are about to see
at the very end of this journey
—Ren Ednalig, The Storytellers
Illustration: ë°ě§ě
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