The Drums of Ruin

Table of Contents

by: Choiril Anwar

The day tightens like a noose,
the world feels steeped in hypocrisy.
Its dwellers begin to panic,
nature—one by one—starts to prod,
receiving the decree of the Almighty.

Words are no longer prayers,
only lies
gliding from wretched mouths.
O Hidden Name, show Yourself;
do not let me keep searching
along this solitary journey,
cleaving through thorn-strewn roads.

Morning fog lays its blanket,
the sun seems barricaded.
Each step must carry proof,
as though angels are on patrol.
PTD—Permit to Die—
I never had the chance to file it.

This body grows more fragile;
the drums of ruin thunder.
Now I kneel
before the Most Mighty.