A. Zamroni Sw.
It is a journey without a stop. Speeding at the speed of the wind that blew from the chaotic burrows of civilization. Wandering among the ruins of an old age.
Over the past century we
measured distances and stuck poles to mark the end of the journey. However,
adventure made him useless. There is no longer a word to stop forever. We can
only stop for a while, just to unwind and relieve embarrassment and anger.
A century later our journey
transforms into a journey filled with battle. Conquest and bloodshed almost
cost us defeat. Luckily, the martyrs and ancestors never gave up. They drew
weapons and risked their lives for their grandchildren.
For centuries to come the
shelter will become extinct by fighting. Earth rotates so fast that the sun is
difficult to recognize. The dream-dashed time left little pause between the
traces snaking to the top. The ruins of the sky buried the flowers and leaves
that fell from the very long dry season.
Centuries are a short time to
wander. And the land of the land is too barren to be a comfortable resting
place without distraction. There was hardly any time left to plan and treat
wounds. The fighters are increasingly greedy and blindly fight for the throne.
Time bombs were scattered on the sheets of history, drenched in blood and stung
by the burning of the sky.
Ages
will never be frustrating or discouraged. It might just be a hassle in less
than an hour. We have to be invincible plays who continue to roam and fight
until time surrenders to history. And the complete story of the mass death and
twilight history of man and the world.
Solo-Ngawi, March-April 2018
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