An eye of the world, gazing out at all,
A great hunt for a Horn, sleeping heroes to call.
A Dragon Reborn, 'gainst the Dark One to stand -
Yet the shadow of night rises over the land.

Fires of heaven that flame in the sky,
A Lord of Chaos, to live or to die.
Swords make a crown that proclaims a new king - 
On high paths, the clashes of daggers ring.

More parts of a prophecy remain to write; 
Eight now are written, and the ninth is in sight -
But how long must we wait to find out what comes next?
Robert Jordan, your readers are greatly vexed.

Oh fellow WoT-readers, now hark to my words - 
For a terrible tale have I recently heard,
That seems to confirm our greatest fear - 
Book 9 won't be out for at least a year.

So come with me, riot outside the house
Where dwell the erring Creator and spouse,
Fly banners, wave pitchforks and torches that shine - 
And shout, 

"MR JORDAN, HURRY UP WITH BOOK NINE!"

This poem has absolutely no pretensions to being Quality Literature, but I thought you might like it anyway.

Raina's Hold / Raina's Library / Raina's Library - Poetry