There are times when you surrender to the needs to cry, knowing how it can wash your soul off of sorrow… think of this Usman Awang’s (part of a) poem:
Dia tidak tahu apa itu panas,
kerana dia itu lah apinya.
She knows not what heat is,
for she is the fire.
Just like when you struggle trying to find strength and know not how and where to find it, sit yourself down and cry if you must. Only then will you realize, you can call strength by your first name.
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Questa è Enida 