I'm the author of this poem, and i dont know why, but there should be a few more stanzas of this poem... but anyway, this is the last of the poem...
You're eyes are my sancutary,
You're arms, my safe haven.
But from that peaceful place,
In vain, I have been taken.
Ripped from that warmth,
Plunged into ice.
Left with the realization,
That we may suffice.
Miles apart, and miles away,
From you're arms, I am forced to stay.
But these binds cannot hold me for long,
Because I am coming to hear you're song...
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I'm the author of this poem, and i dont know why, but there should be a few more stanzas of this poem... but anyway, this is the last of the poem... You're eyes are my sancutary, You're arms, my safe haven. But from that peaceful place, In vain, I have been taken. Ripped from that warmth, Plunged into ice. Left with the realization, That we may suffice. Miles apart, and miles away, From you're arms, I am forced to stay. But these binds cannot hold me for long, Because I am coming to hear you're song...