There it comes with its might
On this lonely misty night
Happy in its own sojourn
Not caring for the forlorn
Slowly rising in crescendo
Down it comes crashing
Leaving behind
Passion.. feelings unbridled
Waves, of days bygone
While my heart yearns...
For respite, yet another rises
prisoner heart, Of its own device.
Damn you! begone!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem