Written by: Rizka Herdiani
Edited by: Zania R Putri & Indira Sukmariana
Illustration: Pricharia Via
Have you heard of they who come at night?
Filthy creatures who think that they are of might
Beware if time has passed more than twenty
Or your soul becomes a pool of frenzy
But who cares, we never really mind it all
Afterall, the world will always keep moving, right?
We all hustle and stumble until the night
With sunkens eyes, facing it all without fright
But here we are, forced homebodies
Chained for our “sake” yet there is no heed
Filled with dread, close to impending death
For they did not know that we are drowning in debt
Oh, but we could not take it any longer!
No nectar to sustain us or we are in danger
Of turning into nothing but scraps of bones
No more, we shall pave our escape, or else
Chains rattling, we come in stumbling heaps
Our bodies reek of rot, but we do not care at all
Danger might be lurking, they might be creeping
Somewhere in the abyss, hiding beneath the eclipse
“What if they come? What will we become?”
An aching shiver creeps across our spines
In hindsight, thoughts of traps and mines
Flooded our minds although we try to deny
We choose to persist, because we insist
Survival of the fittest is what we need to achieve
Amongst the many deadly possibilities
That they might appear and come in
The night is airless, an ongoing direness
With the silence that is heavy and deafening
How come the walls look so alive, heaving,
Or is it merely a trick of our minds?
Yet the darkest alleys are empty
No screams and screeches of pleas
Is this what it meant to be?
When your presence is finally free?
Perhaps this is what delight is
When hidden riches are scattered for us
For we must collect them, collect the nectar
So our bellies are no longer full of blight
But the gods abhor us futile beings
So much so that these possibilities
Are no longer of existence, a pity
All of them gone in a blink of an eye
The walls were indeed never static
The heaving grow louder and heavier
Black powder oozes, a siren screeches
The Hands of Gore emerged in heaps of fear
They have come, they are awaken
The panic settles in, the nausea overbearing
“Hands over your head, or we will shoot you!”
Surrounded by barricades, we are outnumbered
One choice, a mistake, or we will be maimed
“But we are feverish and full of famine
Our days are ticked off by the unforgiving time
While we ravaged our hands and feet off these chains
Scouring for the nectar before all comes to an end”
But they never listen, they never cared
A sneer, a symbol of pride
Alas, they only frown upon us on sight
Everything became a blur, a stomp to the ground
Flashes of gold bolts turned the vision to crimson
“Think twice before you come out,
You filthy creatures who thought you are of might
Once you come out,and the blight is spread,”
And then they spat, “you again are to blame”
Once done with their mistreat, so-called holy deed
Instilling fear amongst amongst us with woes
Gone the Hands of Gore back to the very walls
Where they slumber, drunken by stolen riches
So, my friend, beware of they who come at night
Filthy creatures who think that they are of migh
Hiding in plain sight, a facade like those around
For they will hunt and devour you whole
Until you are no more on the ground
