Pasrah. It's a strange word. But it's all I need to bear. Externally, all appears fine, Inside it's a battle ground. Ghosts from the past, they reappear, Surrounding me, Closer and closer. No tears. I surprised. It w… Read on blog or Reader The Lost Bird Read on blog or Reader Pasrah Angky Ridayana March 18 Pasrah. It's a strange word. But it's all I need to bear. Externally, all appears fine, Inside it's a battle ground. Ghosts from the past, they reappear, Surrounding me, Closer and closer. No tears. I surprised. It was just me on my porch Eyes closed Soaking up every ache Listening to raindrops. How easy they fell to the ground. Without words, Without trying to hold on, Just fell. To the earth, where they blend. I want to be a raindrop. Effortlessly falling, without a sound, Letting go, without a fight. Went inside. I'm done, quietly I pray, "Tuhan, aku pasrah," I say. For the first time in my life I accepted everything. Every single thing. Every truth, every bruise and all that's lost No more questions, no will to cling, Just the quiet surrender of everything. I won't fight, "Tuhan, aku pasrah," I softly say. Comment Like You can also reply to this email to leave a comment.

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