He only did one thing well; stifled all
my cries. As panic strikes, my breath consumed.
He sits upon my scream; my call for help.
Intones a mutter: “We are not alone.”
A cold and frozen stare from others share.
The blade of conscience cuts where once I erred.
Sharp, hollowed-out “Betrayal!” drives my dream.
But, suckled to the sound that was my past,
his bellows draws the air from out my lungs
to fan the crushing heat. A thirsty cry
now crackles and pretends a human voice.
Sigh silently, we cling together now.
Then quick, my lover leapt into that fire.
“Conspirator!” I cry. But no one hears…
(Form: Blank verse, Iambic Pentameter.)