Dying from hunger, 

suffering from thirst,

 I sit idly and yearn,

 I yearn for the fresh dew,

 that only your lips can offer,

 and for your gentle touch,

 that burns my skin.

 I wish for our souls,

to  be bound with silver strings,

 for us to become,

 One.

A/ N: I know it's not that great... Tell me what you think...