The Whisper

No voice calls and yet,

T’would be blasphemy indeed

To say I were unwanted

For,

Sometimes,

In the quiet darkness of isolation,

One seems to wait.

I wait too –

Perhaps ‘tis but a matter of time,

Or till I fulfill my fate.

And then,

No more drifting,

No more grief

When,

Separation at long last ended,

The call shall come to me,

The sweet embrace of eternity,

And reunion,

Never to be broken again.