Whispers cling like shame
To the tormented state of my mind;
I am alone, yet you are with me.
I wake to the sound of your whispers.
Your sweet, aching words of timeless unspent
Passion dance in ghostly monotones.
You do not know how much I miss you.
Left to myself, left in the pit,
I am covered in mud. I am surrounded,
Offered only gladiatorial recompense.

For love, I suffer.
In love, I walked into the arena
And laid my soul before the hungry beasts.
Fight, fight, fight…the words were loud,
My heart louder still--beating a terrible rhythm
In my chest. I did fight,
Like a good Roman entertaining the crowd.
The beasts bit deep, and I clung to life,
To you…I still do. This is a fight I cannot win,
Yet I still cling, like your whispers in my mind.

*

This poem appears in my collection, "Immortality Lives...Embracing Poetry in a New Age."