Plaisir

My blood is enthralled.
Intrigued by lust.
I have done it once and I will do it again.
Fulfilling the pleasure.
The desire
to slaughter your throat.
I have never did anything to you before
yet you did horribly to me.
It is time for reckoning
And I will do the honour.

through the tiniest hole

I'm waiting for something I'm unsure of

While facing the white piece of paper with obnoxious blank ink
Drinking from the cold can
Chomping the aggravating snack
Getting annoyed at the babel of noises and yells of crazed "bees"

But I'm still waiting
Neglecting the should-be-first thing

Listen to the thoughts in my head
It is just like the babel
I'm confused with the news and theories

I'll just be waiting right here
Or there
Or anywhere

I'm waiting
I'll be waiting
We'll be waiting

We're just as lost
But we're going to be waiting

Waiting for the news
Good news
Bad news
Just any news

He knows
He listens
He decides

What else would you need other than Him The Almighty?

Prayers to MH370

the death of me

 i am not sure whether this sounds like a suicidal notes--

or maybe a suicidal poems. 

or anything. it's about deaths.

i don't know.

it's just;

i wonder--

how many of you will come to my funeral?

how many of you will recite al-fatihah whenever you missed me?

how many of you will still remember me after 

a few year passed since the angel of death collected my souls?

how often will you visits my grave?

or 

will you?
how soon you'll recover from grieving?

or 

will you?

will be someone who will patiently recite yasiin for me everyday, exists?

and 

how will you react as soon as 

you know that i am no longer;
breathing?