We step into the walls of hurting people, death, and even some miracles.
Slowly, we walk toward the grieving room full of lost hopes and despair.
The essence of night and death has fallen on these people.
The room is dark, but dimly lit. You can still see the tears.

We wait.

Everything is quiet.
Only the sound of teardrops shattering onto bibles
and crying shoulders.
I hear his voice in my head.

We wait.

I taste the salty tears as they roll down my cheeks
and fill my dry mouth.
The smell of needles and blood lingers through the hallways.
I can't help but hold my breath.

We wait.

A warm hand sits on my shoulder,
I pray it's his,
though I know better.
I shift to return the gesture.
It is only but another mourning soul.
I see it belongs to my sister and smile,
we hug and the tears keep pouring down.

We wait.

We are waiting for the news that will destroy us
and bring us to our knees.
Most already know the answer,
including me,
but I can't face it.
I don't want to know,
I just want him back.

We wait.

Then the moment comes.
The doctor says he's sorry.
I break down and ask why, why him? Why now?
But nobody can answer me.

So I will wait.