What is to wait for when there is nothing to expect?
It is a vast wasteland of eternity -- this long wait.
I stopped and quite so blank. There's no rhyme to it either because it is not poetry at all. I am guilty that what I write today is not for anyone else. It's not for me neither.
This is how it feels when you are waiting for nothing. There is a question that can't be answered anymore. Just wait in the mist until it gets exhausted. The whole thing is enveloped by a dissipating anticipation of what's NOT to come.
Like I've never been tried, I know now, this is what real goodbye means! Rest now...