Gone Not Gone
I kiss your forehead gently as you rest.
You murmur vaguely, furrowing your brow,
as black of night seeks weakly to oppress
the agitated thoughts that haunt you now.

You lie alone and yet the voices spill
in angry whispers, raging into screams.
These advocates of conscience strike until
I take you in my loving arms, unseen.

I see the guilt and pain that never heals.
My love surmounts this murderous affair.
Yours is the deed, the brutal stab of steel.
Now voices in your head are yours to bear.