My depressing moods

I remember little dialogue from somewhere.

'Hey, why are you still standing right now?'

"Because I want to protect my dearest one."

'Really? Cliche isn't it?'

"How so?"

'Because you want to hold your ground when all of suffering and fighting ends. You held hatred towards one that left you behind. you held deeper hatred towards one that betray you, the one that hurt you and keep you captive.'

"NO."

'How could you be so sure?'

"Because I held onto my faith."

'Faith? for what? a faith that you will not be hurt in the end? Faith that you are worthy?'

"No. a Faith for Justice."

'Naive one I see...'

"How?"

'Because you held onto false justice.'

"No. this is true! Why are you denying it? in this situation nonetheless."

'Because I don't like someone who go around brandishing a banner of justice. When there were human involved, no good and bad remains. What remain is our will.'

Kembali ke dunia nyata, kata kata itu terasa seperti nostalgia. apa yang membuat kita berharga dan kita percaya kalau kita adalah yang benar? apa yang membuat kita beanr dan apa yang membuat mereka salah?

Apa yang membuat sesuatu itu benar dan sesuatu itu salah?

pernahkah kalian bertanya pada diri kalian sendiri hal seperti ini?

"Apakah aku sudah cukup berguna?"

"Apakah aku sudah memenuhi harapan mereka?"

"Apakah aku berharga?"

Ukuran apa yang membuat kita berharga? ukuran apa yang dapat membedakan kalau hal itu adalah benar dan bukan? apa yang mendasari kebenaran itu?

Kemudian, pernahkah kita mencari kebenaran dari ini? apa kebenaran yang selamaini kita bercaya adalah benar? kebenaran apa yang kita cari sampai kita merasa itu hanya hal penting.

hah... pertanyaan ambigu untuk orang yang aneh, kan?

doodle # 1

This is a picture of my original character in zetaboards, Acacia of Anagon. Sequentia Trifoi.

tugas TIK semester genap

Setyani / XI IPS 3 / 26

Here we go now... I know that this post is not so interesting because I just want to share my doodle. what I want to share is a rather depresing poet but well... I keep trying hard to make one.

Empty Tune

I sink in abyss shaped by myself...

I felt like ridiculous being,

Yet I can’t memorize why I revolve in such circumstance.

I saunter in Night Street all by myself.

Turned in murky crook I saw zilch.

Fear built within gloomy I can’t even portray.

I closed my eyes and likeness of me kept dancing.

Once I weep,

Once I drown,

Once I gasp,

I never felt myself within that imagery...

I doze in humid and secure bed in my own room.

Yet I can’t feel the kindness within that place.

I stride out of my extent but found no one in my residence.

I lighted the lamp but the place felt empty by me.

Dawn came with the echo of chirping bird.

I wake and stroll to the school to met my friends.

We natter like those chirping bird.

We giggle like there was no tomorrow to giggle.

So warm but so odd,

Like it’s all didn’t belong to me.

Soon I went back to that frosty and sinister place over.

I recognize there were futile to knock the door as I enter.

I believe there was no one to welcome me,

Like there were no one in the daybreak as I went out.

I turn the hi-fi to fill the vacant gap.

I sing to load the hole within this place.

I dance and I convert so many books to alleviating my dullness.

I cook and filled the table with various meals.

I act as if there was so much joy in this bareness.

Said to myself “It’s okay... you will not broke again.”

I said to my wits “I will get used to this eventually.”

Once I found myself mumbled word ‘useless’ repeatedly.

I gazed at my surrounding and sighed.

This bareness and chilliness get used to my mind so quick.

I felt myself trailing those entire warmth wish.

It’s just so effortless to believe not too much than thorn aftermath.

I felt the numbness within my mind but I should not care.

Yet, I found myself terrified of that sinister spot in this new perspective.


copyrighted by me and me only.


I know it's depressing poet. so well... hope you enjoy it?

The Dragon of Wantley - originated in 17th century

Old stories tell how Hercules
     A dragon slew at Lerna,
With seven heads and fourteen eyes,
     To see and well discern-a:
But he had a club, this dragon to drub,
     Or he ne'er had done it, I warrant ye:
But More of More-hall, with nothing at all,
     He slew the dragon of Wantley.
This dragon had two furious wings,
     Each one upon each shoulder;
With a sting in his tail as long as a flail
     Which made him bolder and bolder.
He had long claw's, and in his jaws
     Four and forty teeth of iron;
With a hide as tough as any buff,
     Which did him round environ.

Have you not heard how the Trojan horse
     Held seventy men in his belly?
This dragon was not quite so big,
     But very near, I'll tell ye;
Devoured he poor children three,
     That could not with him grapple;
And at one sup he ate them up,
     As one would eat an apple.

All sorts of cattle this dragon would eat,
     Some say he ate up trees,
And that the forests sure he would
     Devour up by degrees:
For houses and churches were to him geese and turkeys;
     He ate all and left none behind,
But some stones, dear Jack, that he could not crack,
     Which on the hills you will find.
Hard by a furious knight there dwelt;
     Men, women, girls, and boys,
Sighing and sobbing, came to his lodging,
     And made a hideous noise.
Oh, save us all, More of More-hall,
     Thou peerless knight of these woods;
Do but slay this dragon, who won't leave us a rag on,
     We'll give thee all our goods.

This being done, he did engage
     To hew the dragon down;
But first he went new armor to
     Bespeak at Sheffield town;
With spikes all about, not within but without,
     Of steel so sharp and strong,
Both behind and before, arms, legs, and all o'er,
     Some five or six inches long.

Had you but seen him in this dress,
     How fierce he looked, and how big,
You would have thought him for to be
     Some Egyptian porcupig:
He frighted all, cats, dogs, and all,
     Each cow, each horse, and each hog:
For fear they did flee, for they took him to be
     Some strange, outlandish hedge-hog.

To see this fight all people then
     Got up on trees and houses,
On churches some, and chimneys too;
     But these put on their trousers,
Not to spoil their hose. As soon as he rose,
     To make him strong and mighty,
He drank, by the tale, six pots of ale
     And a quart of aqua-vitæ.

It is not strength that always wins,
     For wit doth strength excel;
Which made our cunning champion
     Creep down into a well,
Where he did think this dragon would drink,
     And so he did in truth;
And as he stooped low, he rose up and cried, boh!
     And kicked him in the mouth.

Oh, quoth the dragon with a deep sigh,
     And turned six times together.
Sobbing and tearing, cursing and swearing
     Out of his throat of leather:
More of More-hall, O thou rascal,
     Would I had seen thee never;
With the thing at thy foot thou hast pricked my throat,
     And I'm quite undone forever.

Murder, murder, the dragon cried,
     Alack, alack, for grief;
Had you but missed that place, you could
     Have done me no mischief.
Then his head he shaked, trembled and quaked,
     And down he laid and cried;
First on one knee, then on back tumbled he;
     So groaned, and kicked, and died.




Copied respectively from wikisource. published in  Thomas Percy's anthology Reliques of Ancient Poetry

Lillibullero - satrical ballad march

Ho, brother Teague, dost hear the decree?

Lillibullero bullen a la

We are to have a new deputy

Lillibullero bullen a la

Refrain:

Lero Lero Lillibullero

Lillibullero bullen a la

Lero Lero Lero Lero

Lillibullero bullen a la

Oh by my soul it is a Talbot

Lillibullero bullen a la

And he will cut every Englishman's throat

Lillibullero bullen a la

Refrain

Now Tyrconnell is come ashore

Lillibullero bullen a la

And we shall have commissions galore

Lillibullero bullen a la

Refrain

And everyone that won't go to Mass

Lillibullero bullen a la

He will be turned out to look like an ass

Lillibullero bullen a la

Refrain

Now the heretics all go down

Lillibullero bullen a la

By Christ and St Patrick's the nation's our own

Lillibullero bullen a la

Refrain

There was an old prophecy found in a bog

Lillibullero bullen a la

The country'd be ruled by an ass and a dog

Lillibullero bullen a la

Refrain

Now this prophecy is all come to pass

Lillibullero bullen a la

For Talbot's the dog and Tyrconnell's the ass

Lillibullero bullen a la

again, this is not Made by me. It's ancient poem and march that I like.

LOVELESS Poem - Final Fantasy

The Prologue:

When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end,
The goddess descends from the sky

Wings of light and dark spread afar,
She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting...


Act I:

Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess
We seek it thus, and take to the sky.
Ripples form on the water's surface
The wandering soul knows no rest.

Act II:

My Friend, your desire
Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess.

Legend shall speak of sacrifice at worlds end.
The wind sails over the water's surface
Quietly, but surely...

Act III:

As the war sends the world hurtling towards destruction
The prisoner departs with his newfound love
And embarks on a new journey.

He is guided by hope that the gift will bring bliss
And the oath that he swore to his friends.

Though no oath is shared between the lovers,
In thier hearts they know they will meet again.

Act IV:

There is no hate, only joy
For you are beloved by the goddess.
Hero of the Dawn, Healer of Worlds.

Three friends go into battle
One is captured,
One flies away,
the one that is left becomes a hero.
If we were to enact it,
would I be the one to play the hero,
Or would You?
Indeed
After all, your glory should have been mine.

My Friend, the fates are cruel
There are no dreams, no honour remains.
The arrow has left the bow of the goddess.

My Soul corrupted by vengeance,
Hath endures torment,
To find the end of the journey in my own salvation.
And Your eternal slumber.

Now what i want most...
is the 'Gift of the Goddess'...

Act V:

Dreams of the morrow hath shattered soul
Pride is Lost.

Wings stripped away, the end is nigh
Such is... the fate of a monster.

Even if the morrow is barren of promises,
nothing shall forestall my return.
If this world seeks my destruction...
... It goes with Me

ACT Vl(Made by Genesis)

Even if the morrow is barren of promises,
Nothing shall fortell my return

To become the dew that quenches the land,
To spare the sands, the seas, the skies
I offer thee this silent sacrifice




this is not a poem made by myself. It's LOVELESS poem read by Genesis in Final Fantasy Crisis Core and    I think that this poem is good. So far, this poem don't conclude much of ancient English (dunno if the name is Ancient English) and yeah... I just like it.

Breakig Benjamin - Fade Away

I'm cold and broken
It's over, I didn't want to see it come to thisI wonder if I will ever see your face againAnd I know that I will find a way to shed the skinIt's simple, I know that I will suffer in the end
Fast I fade away, it's almost over, hold onSlow, I suffocate, I'm cold and broken alone
It's hopeless, the end will come and wash it all awayForsaken, I live for those I lost along the wayAnd I can't remember how it all began to playI suffer, I live to fight and die another day
Fast I fade away, it's almost over, hold onSlow, I suffocate, I'm cold and broken alone
Fast I fade away, it's almost over, hold onSlow, I suffocate, I'm cold and broken alone
I'm cold and broken


quiet sad if I must say....