The Wait,
Endless with anticipation,
Blinded by the unknown,
Tireless with every tick,
Timeless with each tock.
Nothing ever seems to matter,
Only to know a reason.
Impatient to greet the end,
Like walking alone,
Along a gray winter’s shore,
The damp cold sand,
And the breaking of waves,
The wind like the wait,
Sometimes bitter as the cold.