The Lurking Room

And here I am

Back in the tween of wrong and right
A lingering between day and night
Could there ever be an end
In this greyed funnel of indecision
For to move, would be to chance
A risk devoid of rewards

Not barren, this treasure trove
Just hidden, locked and unmoving
Till it chooses to bare itself

And thus here I am

Lurking and waiting
For a fate not yet sealed
Undecided by my hands but always
Through the actions of another
In their time, at their pace, of their own accord

For it does not matter
Never did, never will

And I linger with hope

In Father Time to be kind
With his healing, with his release
Of whatever burdens that plague
For I possess not of such devices
Only in what comfort my ears provide

And in this I pray

That hope be as true
As my intentions are sincere
For I am wary of destiny's twisted humour

The repetition of life's plays
Dulling all pain and anguish from what was
And of what might be or might not

Louder do the bells of good tidings ring
Drowning despairing cries
Though these cries might be mine own

Yet, here I still am