It's time my presence be awaited.
It's time my attention be missed.
It's time my cries be appeased.
It's time my wish be granted.
It's time my wish be granted.
It's time my contrite be pardoned.
It's time my sin be forgiven.
It's time my love be avenged.
Let me met my Lord in peace!
(Thus, the Losers stared each eyes that can only be looked blankly, as if tomorrow just a second again and life will soon forget him. Anyway, the world will simply lose the Losers....)
I'm so sorry, moms, dads.
Why are you who first looped the rope to the gallows?
Regretting the end which was supposed to be ended.
Or because your own flesh and blood calls himself the Losers who deserve discarded?
EPILOGUE:
At the dark night in the corner of the city.
Still no tears dripped in sheets of words which almost never been read.
After years of wandering.
When the regret was totally pointless.
Losers was dead...killed deserted...
What do you care?
Who knew he was still there around you now?
Once the Losers, living or dead no one mourned...
Bandung, September 14, 2000
To someone who misses me... You'll be mine.
Logging you in...