She dares to be a wanderer,
She dared to walk alone,
Afraid of what they’d find,
When searching through her soul.
The world around her troubled her,
She feared for all things new,
Emotions in constant turmoil,
All battered, bruised and blue.
She grew jealous of the wind,
Which seemed forever free,
Never burdened by desire,
Or mans’ hypocrisy.
She wished for something simple,
A life just hers and free,
Cut free from all they’re shadows,
No longer pulled by puppet strings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Not just loved it, but also feel inpired...