Halls of Uncertainty

I have lived in the halls of uncertainty for years. What's one more day or two?
I cannot hurry their answer, no matter how hard I try. So I sit on one of these uncomfortable chairs, hoping a door will open. I hold onto hope, despite facing many closed doors.
It's so cold here, so lonely, so dark, this land of the in-between.
Sometimes, I wonder what lies ahead. Sure, it will be new. But it would be nice to have some certainty. Even if its only a sliver. I don't want to stay here forever. Can I go?