I just paddled the boat until the second of July, until I seen the blue skies turn the light to orange glow. I heard the whining sound from the near birds. It seems, my tired paddling hand will end up today. In here.
I took my last cigarette and enjoy it like this is the last breath i can inhale. I try to make the haze out of the ocean while i exhale the smoke out of my lungs. Fushh... out of the breath. Fear surround the ocean, Crestfallen walking on the sea.
My life is miserable and i don't know how to swim.
Abruptly, it makes me aware. Even if i can swim, I cant dictate where I should go. North, west, east or south until ...
I saw the angel who flew and threw the guide mark from God.
I climb to the dilapidated boat back and I paddled until I found the end of my loss. From mark to mark, I finally touch the glory island-the end of journey.
I discover the path that I follow is a reminder that have thousand of angels bringing the love from humble slave to the orange skies.
Now, It doesnt matter.
Whenever I lost the navigator, the Guide Mark is always here. It can be on second of July or Thirteen December. Whenever I float, the love of angel will bring the glimmer of hope to the path of glorious journey.
It's Ramadhan guys, it's a mark, navigator and reminder threw by an Angel to all of slave who just lost.
Puasa jangan tak Puasa,