Stolen Lives

Stolen Lives

In my ovoid of liquid warmth,
I nestled in the very abyss of you.
A tiny heart blossomed from my primitive existence,
And began its rhythm to the pattern of life.
My life and yours.

Your lovely and familiar voice penetrated
The expanding walls of my growing abode,
Soothing my unknown fears as I traveled with you.
Continually, unceasingly, always.
The drumming of your pulse was my guide.

Until the day it alerted me with its flurry.
The palpable frenzy of rushed activity engulfed me,
As did the screeching of the outside world.
The voice I loved pitched forth strangely,
And a shattering force pierced painfully upon us.

The trembling swirl of my depth overwhelmed me.
I was lost.
Your comforting beat to my pathway was fading.
The steady flow of the breath of life slowly ebbing.
Left would be only the deep, deep silence of our stolen lives.

by Laura Fabiani