She is but a dying lass
That looks out of the window of glass,
She hear the rain softly tapping,
As the trees kept on dancing.
She watched as the thunder boomed,
The darkness being consumed,
The bright sun was hidden,
and the mist was doing the forbidden.
With no one to tame them,
Storm sobs onto the stem,
As the lass stared at them in a daze,
But the sky was where she gaze.
The young girl kept on crying,
As she felt her heart aching,
The heavens cried along,
as the weathers sang their sad song.
It was such a dreary sight,
As she turned her back from the night,
The maiden flashed her one last smile,
' I won't be waking up for a while '
It was her last breath,
And alas lass finally reached her death,
Such a sad and sorrowful end,
For the kind little friend.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem