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The waiting is the soul's biggest enemy, taking all its beauty.

The horizon always looks much brighter,

that is where the rainbows belong,

not here near me,

where all the lights are dim.

It's on the horizon that you belong too,

you're a bright spot so far away,

that even though I want to be with you,

there are many mountains blocking my way.

Your presence with me,

always seems like a dream,

that I will never achieve,

but maybe with time,

you will finally appear, just like a gift.

For now my love,

I can only wonder what your touch feels like,

how your lips can make my heart warmer than ever before,

and wish for all the images my imagination made of you,

to be true.

Sincerely yours,

the man who waits,

who waits for you,

until the day butterflies turn into birds,

until the day the sun turns into night,

until there is no other way of having you,

because that is when he will learn to fly.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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