There is a place
High above the highest shelter of the bright skies,
That goes by the name of
High above the highest shelter of the bright skies,
That goes by the name of
Redemption.
There,
People breeze past through the empty roads
While comforting troubled souls
Of their own.
In which I never deny its existence
For this journey would always lead to its
Destination.
Wherever it may be,
Whatever it has to sacrifice,
Whoever we will become.
Open wide pathways,
Leaves falling like scattered ashes,
Cars parked at their utmost ease,
Words spilled out along with the wind,
Dogs barking seductively to their mates,
Grass! Much too much to be rolled upon!
Space need not be conquered
Time watches its habitant walking on by
Through the unspoken stillness
Peace.
Comfort.
So non-urbanite!
— strolling along Portsdown Road and its branches on a windy Sunday morning, two kampung-spirited young men who go by the name of Cay and Nauval decide to surrender to the comfort of one fractured feeling: home —
Nauval Yazid & His Words. 