I walked in to the woods
And I find that I am lost
I try to find a way out
But all I get is dead ends
I start to hear crying
And screaming
Why does it sound so much like mine
And then not like mine?
It scares me
And then I see a tree
Surrounded by
Me.
Young me's
And older me's
And they all are crying
And some of them screaming
All of them has a rope around
There neck
They said together
"It's about time you die me."
And they all try too grab me
At the same time
It is fate alone, that manages our move,
In each route march, with privet muse,
On these dreams, wills or pose,
Which everyone's choice, in his close?
It is said, that our eyes,
Look and takes, pictures and sights,
That our hearts makes, with no connection to fate,
But only, to our personal date!
Is it love? what do you think?
Or just a paint, a point, a pink?
Or maybe a reason, that God knows,
In these moments, of our life cause?
I really think, that it all lies
In our power to find the ties,
And no one, can explain in full,
The all things, overruled, in cool!
So, time will come and go,
Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and so on,
And we will continue, to fly as a dove,
With dreams and feelings, for those we love!
Is it real love, in all that,
Or just, the mysterious fate
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem, like it. A great write.