September 13, 2008
By Anonymous

Waiting to hear a sound,
Waiting to hear a voice,
Wishing that he was around,
Not that she had much choice.

No voice left to sing his song,
She was screaming the night away,
Hoping he would feel something was wrong,
She’s been waiting from night to day.

Waiting for the sound of his footsteps echoing through the halls,
Searching for any sign of light,
Only seeing the occasional insect crawling up the walls,
Thinking that in any minute; someone would come out for a fight.

Her heart stops racing,
Her hope is low like winter doves,
All over the need of facing,
The only man she loves.

The author's comments:
This poem describes a vision which I had while listening to a music track. I began to write a novel right after.

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