By: Muhammad Syarif Fadhlurrahman
A parable for me is that of
Sea-tides raging by the winds,
They oscillate from time to time
In such unsubtle manner,
Sometimes one finds one's self below,
As if doom'd to sink,
Sometimes one find one's self up on top,
As if soaring through the sky,
One can't help but feel helpless,
To stabilize as to gain control,
'Tis true of me,
That I feel disguited of my self,
Once I'm at my intellectual peak,
And well-versed I am, of great knowledge,
As much so, I excel beyond my peers ,
In many a respect, such it begets envy,
At other times, slow in thought,
And forgetful of memories,
So much so I feel retarded,
And my peers ask, "Whence came he?"
"For he is wholly different!"
"Whither went to that intelligent one?"
But this seems to be a fate that I must live with,
and live with it as best as life can be.