A wind from the North Country
blows through the tapestry of my mind,
looking for something
that it may never find.
The hollow echo,
of a lonely life.
The sorrows of a misspent youth,
a tattered tale it leaves.
A journey I will not take,
for the sake that I might lose.
The thing that matters most in life,
our love that we both choose.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Now this is a beautiful little number, whats that old song now heartaches by the number... thanks for sharing my friend...10