Waiting and watching, biding the time.
The view seemed clear through smoked glass, thought of as mine.
Whispering, wanted, pained recognition,
that the signs were wrong, listened to admonitions.
Frustrations abound, things done wrong.
Mistakes made, doors shut, waited too long.
Now the path is uncertain, clouds block the view
the glass fogs up, left without a clue.
Patterns repeated, crying in the dark,
waiting and watching for that effervescent spark.
Perhaps it is there, but how to tell?
Lines of communication, shattered, fell.
A glorious time is awaited, coming,
Flying to replace walking, running, shunning.
Not to be viewed through this cloudy sphere,
waiting to be release in the absence of fear.
Unclear now, but waiting, progressing,
to use tools without fear of regressing.
Move forward without, waiting no longer
for if the door is shut, beating won't make me stronger