peaceful wait and awaited peace;
wait was when there was beauty in the dark, and even the light could be lighted with terror,
wait was when the sky could set fire and the land could admire,
wait was counting nights till the perfect sunrise; living days to make up to the final moonlight.
but how many stars do we light, how many light years do I fight; waiting for the right?
why does wait hold that much a plight?
and how long do I stand in the light?
for this wait weights me down,
so tell me, how long is too long?
and how long wait could be too much await,
because now I wonder how the pauses could be that perfect; when the play was far read.
for maybe this hold is what we dread.
or maybe this wait, it never had anything to hate,
but now I feel sunken in its weight,
someone tell him to wait, my mate,
for dealing with departures isn’t that great,
but this wait, this wait is all that’s left on my plate;
why could wait not be a time trait?