Whispers

You whispered.

In the quietest of voices you whispered. 

In the sweetest of voices you whispered. 

In the kindest of voices you whispered.

You were a hummingbird.

Lovely, sweet, angelic.

Where did the wasp come from?

A mirage. An oasis in a vast desert

You vanished.

Glorious nights to never-ending days

Each a century long. 

The scar remains. Ugly, repulsive,

unacceptable.

Your voice? A firery hiss.

The fire builds

I fear you may be consumed

and yet I wish for your immolation. 

It has reached you.

Rejoice!

You wish to ensnare me once again

in order to save yourself from the flames. 

Invoking your army of quiet, sweet, kind whispers.

You are a siren -- without the beauty. 

Weep.

You deserve it. 

I burn as well,

but from my ashes I am reborn. 

I am the phoenix.

You? A pathetic wretch. 

Enough.

Halt.

Mute your words.

Mute your laughter. 

The hummingbird is dead. 

And a wasp is born.

You fall to your knees.

A support removed, 

never to be regained.

Et tu Brute?

Then fall Caesar.