To see the smile on the face of a broken heart,
Look into the soul of the eyes of the storm,
To feel the sense of the windy and errie pride,
Walk the path of a mind so blank,
To call the words of pain and a cover of loneliness and,
bloody misery.
Feel the panic in the voice of a craving cry,
Hold the hand of a glassed visioned spirit.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem