'an early winter morning i walked down a road
maybe you could say its fall, but surly very cold
the leaves still dropping down dead from the trees
just like candle wax it fell so suddenly
somewhere, in there, between some thick wooden trunks
i saw something move, i heard something run
to my suprise there was the crystal clear river
so beautiful it made my legs shiver
maybe this is the point i got mad
i heard the river whisper my name in the air
i made a desicion that i later would regret
the desicion that might be the cause of my death
unable to stop and incredibly compelled
i had now followed the river until night fell
there was no light except for the moon itself
and luckily the reflection from the river would help
i was attacked by ten wolves in a pack
retreating into the river threw the wolves back
strange thought i, since it was not very deep
it barely just covered my feet
a chill wandered down my spine as i realized
my feet was stuck and covered with ice
i struggled for hours but all in vein
now the water level is rising higher day by day
soon i will be dead and leave this river behind
in just a couple of minutes i run out of time
this note is for you who stand where i stood
awaiting the same destiny taking the same path that i took
Goodbye.
James Sheridan'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem