Yanma Hidayah

Updated: 13 days ago

https://www.blogger.com/profile/11408421493605077679

Biography
Pages You Might Be Interested In
I Am Nobody!
She Who is Called A Monster
The Father’s Serenade
The Most Gracious
RIP Current
A Fleeting Beauty
Coming Home
When The Home Is You
The Rain
The Sun and Its Promise
Blog
Favourites

Biography

I am an Indonesian. This is a page I dedicate to myself and the ones I love 💙 ps Thank you for taking the time to visit my blog! I hope you find something positive here, and may your day be a wonderful one.

Pages You Might Be Interested In

https://hubpages.com/@yanmahidayah

I Am Nobody!

I am nobody When my career is gone I am nobody When my money is gone I am nobody When my name is gone I am nobody When my body is gone I am nobody! I am no body?! I am a nobody who puts some glitter on I am a no body who I call Myself

She Who is Called A Monster

Her world once ran on her behalf, She freely enjoyed her stuff, Brushing the town so confidently, Proudly showing her beauty. Walking towards a long road, Her body broke, Pain spreading deep into her bones, Yet she holds on to hope. Inside her tiny little body, She carries majesty, That's what is called a baby, A forerunner that will lead the world to where it is to be. Some call her a monster, But they don’t know, the loneliness growing within her. She was once just a girl, Until the world named her a mother. When she falls into the blue, Don’t ask why she doesn’t understand you. She may not even understand herself, Yet still, child, husband, home, she gave them life.

The Father’s Serenade

In the evening, He starts singing, Between two legs crossing, Confessing sins through wording, Merging silence with truths he's meeting, His voice rippling as waves keep unfolding. His serenade of the evening, Filling the air in the name of healing, Soothing birds in cages to sleeping Letting clams breathe free from the drying, A hymn calming the ocean’s surging. And even babies stop crying, While evil spirits are running. He keeps forgiving, Never judging, His heart keeps aiming, Toward God everlasting.

The Most Gracious

Let me tell you how kind my Lord is, I share Him all my desires with honest bliss. He grants them as swiftly as can be seen, But some take longer to intervene. Especially the desires I hold most dear, He wants me to be patient and persevere. No, He does not mock my mortal plan. He asks me to grow and be the best I can. He wants me to receive not just the prize, But to be ready, fulfilled, and wise. My Lord is kind beyond what I can see, It’s just that I’m too foolish to agree, Blind to what’s truly better for me. His love refines the soul in me.

RIP Current

Amidst the crashing waves that fiercely surround, The current assures the eyes that safety can be found. In truth, it drowns those who gaze at the mere veneer, And those who reach out will find themselves in fear. Oh, you who linger still upon the shore, Let me share of one who nearly sank before. She bore no hatred, yet it was clear, That breathing became a struggle held dear. For love, I muse, one must draw a line, For what seems calm may be a snare.

A Fleeting Beauty

She has to look pretty, No fat on her belly, She has to be extraordinary. Looking for what people agree, She wants them to see Her beauty in reality. Her body Becomes rent-free, As everybody's fantasy. She is an irony, Wanting to be free; She is the one who brings a soul into reality. But society has bought her dignity. They tell her what she needs to be. She follows because she needs her sanity.

Coming Home

A heavy knock striking the door, Shakes the room with stone walls. Truth stands to come, Is it being lost, or going home? What am I really afraid of? Death, or what’s going to come of? It is both death and being called home. God… I want to give You a smile, not dark foam.

When The Home Is You

You’re always searching for a home, one that shelters your soul. But have you ever wondered if it might live beneath your armor? Perhaps the softest place to land has been inside you all this time. Even if it feels abandoned, what if you dusted off the corners, gently, without needing to be whole at once? Don’t force the finding. Even if you find nothing, perhaps it’s just “not yet.” “Not yet found”, doesn’t that sound a little kinder? Let hope keep burning, but never let it burn you. Never stop being the most honest version of you. Because when you can’t see it, I see you as a home. Even these words have chosen you as their home.

The Rain

You may often hear stories about the sun greeting the day, but what about the sky weeping, washing the light away? You look around, and somehow, darkness is all you know. Even the path beneath your feet feels like betrayal, slippery enough to make you fall. And the air feels more piercing, cold enough to cut through your skin. But what if the rain is actually saying, "It is safe for you to be crying." The rain makes space for me to feel, the feeling behind the shield. A quiet moment when I stop pretending, letting go becomes less frightening. Hopes return as the morning sun comes, painting the sky with light and warmth: "The destiny you've been waiting for will soon be knocking on your door." If I must walk under the weeping, I don't mind, perhaps that’s how I heal.

The Sun and Its Promise

What if the sun does not shine in my story? This thought weighs heavily on me. The time when I doubted myself, the time when I took everything for granted. Heavy clouds shroud my day. Maybe, I just do not know the way. The Creator made the sun with its orbit, never late to greet, promising morning as a sign; a new beginning is intertwined. My faith soars in line with the winds, never resting. Because, I believe You are listening. God, I will wait for the sun to rise again, even without knowing when.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.