Waiting

I sit and wait for her to come, no longer am I cold and trembling, but timid, very, still and some would say, a man resembling Someone who may as yet succumb to fearsome thoughts he's been assembling I sit and wait for her to come from wherever she has been a rambling I sit and watch the dark for signs no longer searching for the light, there's naught to fear; it shall decline the one I wait for's not my plight I sit and wait for her to come, how long shall I be forced to wait to search within to find the sum I pray that she will not be late