Waiting by the elevator door,
a pause in this hallway,
where the clock halts at twelve,
I wonder who you are,
in the stillness we share.
Words drift, unspoken,
between the metallic hum,
as if time itself hesitates,
holding its breath for us,
in this fleeting encounter.
Perhaps we are meant
to be fragments of now,
letting go of the rush,
embracing the pause,
becoming part of time's embrace.
A pot whispers, holding its breath,
steam curls like thoughts unspoken,
I sift through pages, old ink,
each word a sigh, a pause,
motor hums slide past the window,
their echoes ripple through silence.
The kettle's murmur grows insistent,
as if urging me to remember,
the past clings to my fingers,
like dust on forgotten shelves,
I trace lines of what was,
each stroke a tender ache.
Boiling water meets its climax,
a crescendo of warmth and clarity,
I lift my gaze, weary yet hopeful,
as light spills through the steam,
the hum of engines fades away,
and I find solace in the glow.
Kertas terhampar, tinta memudar,
suara kipas angin berdecit,
mengisi ruang dengan sunyi.
Kalimat terhenti, jeda panjang,
menyimpan percakapan yang tak terucap,
satu huruf pun tak berani.
Berita usang, cerita tak sampai,
menyadari cinta bukan milik,
tapi hadir dalam rindu.
The ticking clock echoes softly,
in the stillness of the room;
each second a silent witness,
to stories we dare not change
Faint hum of a passing motor,
cascades through the window's frame;
casting fleeting memories,
that dance upon the walls
We sit with these reflections,
unraveling the threads of time;
realizing in the quiet pause,
love's essence isn't possession
Hujan pertama mengetuk atap,
mengalir dalam doa tanpa nama,
membawa aroma tanah yang bangun.
Di bawah papan nama toko yang pudar,
suara air mengisi celah-celah sunyi,
seperti bisikan yang terlupakan.
Kemarau menyimpan cerita lama,
sekarang terhapus perlahan,
oleh tetes air yang tak bertanya.
Namun cinta, tidak menjawab,
hanya membiarkan hujan
membasuh luka yang tak terlihat.
Flickering lights, whispers of night
Eyes tracing patterns on glass
Silent echoes… caught in pixels
A glance through the bus window
Yards with drying clothes sway
Stories untold… between breaths
Darkness embraces the room
Fingers dance on glowing keys
Not all endings… need closure
Sepatu berjejer rapi di teras
menanti langkah yang tak kunjung tiba
dalam diam, suara telepon berdering
seperti napas yang tertahan…
Teras yang sunyi, menyimpan cerita
jejak-jejak yang pernah ada
menggantung harap pada dering
sebelum kata-kata terucap…
Rak sepatu, saksi bisu
menampung segala tanya
mengapa suara itu memanggil
dalam detik yang melambat…
Di ujung dering, janji terurai
tak semua harus ditepati
seperti sepatu yang menunggu
di teras, tetap berdiri…
Through the window, I see
see the shards scattered
scattered like thoughts
thoughts broken,
broken glass, glistening
glistening in the morning light
A clear glass, dew-kissed
kissed by cold air,
air heavy with silence
silence echoes, echoes
echoes of yesterday's fall
falling doesn't mean an end