The winds are howling
The sky is gray
I've lost all sence
Of night and day
The ocean waves
Are getting stronger
Swallowing the shore
Near and yonder
A storm effect
Demanding respect
And through its eyes
Its rage reflects
I sit alone on the highest peaks
Counting the days, counting the weeks
Not one ship has passed me by
I'll be here, till I die.
C. Vergara
12.05.2009
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem