Now he must search
For what once came to him
Alone in the dark
His fingers scrambling
Typing nonsense to himself
Hoping to reclaim the glory of yesteryear



It wasnt the waiting that irked him
More so the not knowing
Not knowing what fate the future held
For better or for worse?
It was as if
Some celestial was sitting on a cloud
Toying his destiny between uncaring fingers
In any case, the best strategy was to wait it out
Not that he had much of an alternative