A tribute

I have seen.

The faceless swarm moving with dull purpose - Driven by clockwork timetabling and sheer necessity.
A sea of white constrained within grey walls - Its freedom absolute within the embrace of unyielding concrete.
Detached souls, their purpose wanting, remain still amidst the mindless flux - holding out against the interminable current.
Waiting.

An indubitable pursuit.
Its pressure permeating through architecture as a colourless miasma.
Concentrating around the wistful, the yearning, a viscous aura.
Driving the lonely, the forsaken.
Driving the prepared, the optimistic.
Driving he who knows of his incompleteness.

He surveys the campus.
The crowds filtering through his eye.
Is it despair? - or hope? A long sigh leaves him.
Mixing into the heavy atmosphere, as gloomy as his spirit, as dark as his shadow.
The moment passes.

Another moment takes its place. Time is continuous, its many layers overlapping and edges indistinct.
Suppressing another sigh, he continues his silent vigil.
Still waiting.

What now? What next?
- Just how long can one wait?
- He notices something. A figure approaches, different from the rest.
Is it...? Perhaps his resolve has will rewarded?
A release from the current state of affairs and sad direction?
Hand raised-

Nearly a wave, then lowered. It was not.

The cruel nature of fate.
How it piques, taunts your resolution.
Stay strong, vagrant of the system.

- Credits to Marken: 'Of Ice and Blood' from http://ringmaster-sanctus.blogspot.com/2010/08/of-ice-and-blood.html