Waiting For Answers

©Steve Gray 2026

The clock ticks in an empty room, a heavy silence waiting for answers that don’t seem to arrive. You sit in expectation of holding a fragile thing, to gripping a fading hope before it can slip away. It’s easier to go searching in the dark than to face the quiet. We seek a word, a sign, a promise, anything rather than this enduring absence.

Outside, the world demands action. You manage the days, handle the heavy hours, and tackle the quiet grief that settles in the corners. You climb the steep stairs of your own thoughts, trying to lead your mind away from despair, though you are always led back to the same cold realisation. To survive, you must adjust your expectations and adjust the sails of a ship already taking on water. You attempt to purge the old ghosts and close the door on yesterday, but memory has a way of dragging you backward.

People can be careless. They communicate with sharp edges, offer ridicule instead of comfort, and look downward to seek the vulnerable to blame. It is a bad habit of the wounded to hurt others, to retaliate when they feel unseen, and to ruin the very connections they need most. They join together in collective judgement, making the lonely feel even more distant.

But anger is a blister on the soul. It leaves a loose thread that, if pulled, will completely break the spirit. You know the cost of letting bitterness take root, you lose yourself in the process. So you wait, refusing to let the cruelty of the world surprise you anymore, hoping the silence will finally break with the truth.