Waiting smiles

She was looking out the window, It was raining outside she smile to her self because she liked the rain, but right now she wished it was a bright sunny day as the rain was delaying something she was look forward to... she checked her phone for like the millionth time. wondering if everything was alright, if that moment was going to come today? 


She was tired and feeling a bit cold, she obviously wasn't dresses for the weather.. she wore a body hugging purple T-shirt and a pair of old jeans. but she didn't mind the weather now thinking about what to come made her warm on the inside. she smiled again, she felt stupid and took a look around to see if people where looking at her for behaving like a skitsofrantic! even that joke-to-self made her smile, Heck! everything seemed make her smile.


The barista brought her a hot coffee she had order which seems like ages ago. she clutched the mug and instantly felt the warmth of the hot drink. now her heart was beating fast she found her self looking out the window again. she was nervous. she was biting her lips and frigging. 


she felt a figure standing behind her and her said "Hi hun, sorry I'm late." she smile to her self... he has finally arrived.

The Second Coming

    Turning and turning in the widening gyre
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst
    Are full of passionate intensity.


    Surely some revelation is at hand;
    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
    Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
    Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.


    The darkness drops again but now I know
    That twenty centuries of stony sleep
    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?


William Butler Yeats

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate, 
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.




William Ernest Henley