I am waiting for the Call.
It will come, I know, the Call.
It is the only Call that WILL come
For, none else has the NUMBER.
It's on Mute, the fone, I mean.
I want it, the CALL, to come muffled,
Like a Cheshire Cat with that evil GRIN
Or, shall I say, with schadenfreude,
Like Death making away with a child ere it could even cry.
Sure, it will come, I know,
The CALL I mean, as surely as Death.
I keep it, the fone, before me
To see its screen light up with an evil gleam
Announcing that IT has come.
And in anticipation
For the light to darken my rambling thoughts.
"Cravens die many a time;
Heroes only once."
Said so the Bard.
Dying many a death
I brave it out for this one CALL;
My curtain CALL .