Puisi Penantian Dalam Diam Novels & Stories

The darkness pressed like a bandage against her eyes, and still she lay, soundless in her anxiety. The night wore on, and still he did not come. Her mind drifted in the never-ending dark, in half-shapes and cloudy senses, in vague memories with distorted edges. Childhood was a dream; womanhood was a charade. She floated, light, and purposeless, in the dull, eternal blackness of the present; and all the while she waited, and held her dread close, and dear. And at length, drowsiness stole upon her, like a ghost through the mist.

Her eyes traced the handwriting, trembling slightly as each word leapt from the page straight into her soul. > “My Livia, I missed you so much. I wanted to see you, to touch you, to feel you near me. But I know… I can’t do that right now, and I’m willing to wait. Livia, I know what you’ve gone through, but don’t give up. You are just starting to feel the freedom you’ve been longing for. So don’t you dare give up. And even if you do… I will catch you and help you stand again. Livia, I know it’s hard for you to accept all the things happening in your life — the rut, the rejection, and the new bond between us — but please… I’m waiting for you. I am very sorry if you saw my care as possessivenes

The mirror awaits me, faithful. I look at myself again. My eyes do not tremble. My mouth neither. I reach out my hand, touch the cold surface of the glass. A word crosses my mind, limpid and without remorse: Finally. Then I sit down, straight, motionless. And I wait for what comes next.

That way, he could make it up to her. But the issue with the shares still bothered him, so he decided to make her wait for a while. With that, he waved Raine away impatiently. "Alright, go home already. Aren't you embarrassed, walking around with that pregnant belly?" He had never noticed it before, but now, he realized Raine was never in the same league as Aelia. She was even more clueless and annoying compared to Aelia, like some nagging wife. When he was busy, Aelia never picked fights like Raine did.

In light yet to fall. In love that learned how to last. The house on the cliff stood. Waiting. Not for closure. For continuation. Always continuation.

Waiting for the city to become brave enough to ask what lay beyond the horizon. Waiting for someone to answer. The expedition suddenly felt real. Not someday. Not eventually. Soon. And somewhere beyond every known world— another light waited in the darkness. Waiting for a ship called the Wayfinder. Waiting for a story to arrive.

Jahaan se zamaane ko guzre zamaana hua Where the world passed Mera samay toh wahin pe hai thehra hua My time is still there Bataaun tumhe kya mere sath kya kya hua Tell me what happened to me Khamoshiyan ek saaz hai Tum dhun koi laao zaraa You tune someone Khamoshiyan alfaaz hain Kabhi aa gunguna le zara Silence is Alphas Sometimes come lukewarm Desperate to talk Let them say, please come Silences Your mine, silence Silences Draped, silenced Rivers water also flows silently here Lakh silences hidden in moonlight Where are the drops of rain There is a silent smoke in the burning hearts Silence is sky Come on you fly Feeling silent Do you feel Beqarar hain baat karne ko Kehne do inko zaraa.. h

But I pressed on, determined to bridge the chasm that separated us from the tales that held the power to bind our souls. The atmosphere around us took on an almost suspended quality, as if time itself was pausing to witness the moment. A tangible sense of anticipation seemed to wrap its gentle embrace around the surroundings, casting an enchanting spell of expectation. His silence, profound and weighty, wove a delicate cocoon of mystery, allowing the unsaid to hang in the air like a suspended breath.

That very summit looked so far away. The wind howled through the lower branches of the majestic trees and through half opened tents. Men gathered around fires, sat and sang songs: Green green grass & willows; Weaving my sorrow. My yearning for thee. My yearning for thee. My yearning for thee. Quietly waiting for your return. Quietly waiting for your return. Tell me, my dear. Won't you come home? Won't you come home? Your homeland is longing for thee. Your homeland is longing for thee.

I'd rather know then be given the element of surprise, where I never gave myself time to prepare. In this wait of mine, I hold on to all hope I have in me, to not surround myself with doubt and believe that one day, shall come. The opening of the front door, has me perking up to look towards the living room entrance, awaiting him to pass by. His footsteps sound along the tiled floor, nearing to the living room until I see him about to pass the living room and head towards the stairs. Before I can say anything, I notice him stop in his tracks and turn his head to look towards me.