It’s going to annoy me so much because I recently found the original one of these I wrote A couple of months ago but I lost it, so I’m going to have to rewrite it again. If I ever do find the original, I shall post it up alongside and you can decide which one is better



It is fate that she will wait, while he hesistates…

One cant debate, this eery fate, it’s too late to uncast,

It drives her to to tear, to bleed, to wound, to fast.

The shape of their balance is skewered only three feet reside in the middle

The reasons allude her like a cryptic riddle.

One step has escaped, with her heart that beats so faintly

It scares her how much she loves him greatly

But she cannot chase, and must arrest with haste,

As  she reiterates, this is her fate, this is her wait


There comes no sign of when this torment will rewind

It’s cold and its black and it shivers her spine

She recalls every second, his famous last lines

‘I don’t believe that this is our moment, that this  is our time’

She’s heard it before and may hear it again

She doesn’t care how often or care comes it when

But this is something she often deliberates

As she stands, in the cold, in the rain, in the wait


Her clasps adjoins as she reveals a coin,

Perhaps a choice that is fair, will ease her dispair

If the coin lands tails, his ship won’t sail

And anchor amongst fond memories, her heart so frail

If the coin lands head, their journey is dead,

And she must put all her future dreams to bed

She must bury the manisfestation of hope in her mind

The choice to be fair now seems so unkind,

It does not know the bereavement of an unborn smile,

Or a stomach filled with perdition’s fire and tormenting bile..

And a heartless hole that overflows with rile

Neither option seems like a victory

So she  tosses this coin over  infinitely

It’s the only thing she can find to unravel her  mind,

To deafen the silence, to occupy the time

She prays for an answer, she begs for a sign

How can being left here not be considered a crime

But nothing ever comes of late

As she remains so solemn in her wait


She recalls the memories of when being alone was a myth

When their loved was forged by the finest blacksmith

When tales of her passion had them pleading the fifth

When they stood side by side and could never drift

Now he stabs her with his lips and bludgeons her  hips

He rolls over at night without leaving her a kiss

She’d glare over at him and whisper a hiss

How could a passion, so strong, that burned so brightly, wither away into this

She knows her own mind is misbehaving of late

It’s a common condition of the good to negate

Even though such thoughts make her more irate

 It all becomes fair game when cast repeatedly headfirst into the wait.


At long last, it’s come to a head

He realises he didn’t mean all the things that he said

He wants to put this episode to bed

 And to take her home, to love, to marry, to wed

Deep in her heart, she knows this is true

But deep in her mind, she knows she’s a fool

And sooner or later, they’ll return to their cue

It’s become their only constant, their relationship’s only rule

As told again and again and again by fate

Regardless of how high they raise the stakes, or how much it grates

The truth of the matter will forever permeate

She is forever preordained to wait and wait,

While he hesistates…