I was once a stormy weather,
A grey cloud in a darkened sky,
A white mist on a moonsoon night,
A child's eyes, unafraid to cry
But now
I am a calm sea that has seen much sorrow
A fading cloud you won't find tomorrow
A settling fog like forgotten dust
An old lady's eyes, that have given up
I have no tears left to cry by,
There is a drought in my soul.
I was once a raging tempest,
A fearful gale the ships forestalled;
A raging wave no man could best,
A shimmering waterfall that amazed and enthralled
But now
I am a sleeping fiend lying dormant in the blue
A rushing breeze that won't matter to you
A receding wave that everyone climbs
A dried waterfall, worn out with time
I have no tears left to cry by,
There is a drought in my soul.
I await the day when my skin is pricked
And the running blood will prove me of the living,
I await the day when my eyes cloud over
And I can cry again, (my) tears embellished and unforgiving
But for now
I have no tears left to cry by,
There is a drought in my soul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
......when all have gone and forgotten...all seems useless to hold.....a human elements that a time of need...somebody has to be there to comfort and care...just to listen of who and what we are in life.....don't worry my friend I am here to hear of what you say...a 10+