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It comes in many shapes and styles,
Gliding across the endless miles.
The eternal whisper of love's true voice.
It leaves its victims without a choice.
There's no way to fight it, though some may try.
They attempt to hide when they sense it close by.
But what these poor souls do not realize
Is its reach is enough to touch the skies.
And so their attempts slowly crumble apart,
As it reaches out to grasp the heart.
And as it enflames the heart with its fire,
It fills the body with passion and desire.
All will is lost and replaced with hope.
Nearly too strong for the mind to cope.
And when all the will to fight it is gone,
The eternal whisper of love moves on.
That was the way I originally wrote this poem, but a good friend and fellow writer suggested to me that it might be better written in free form, without all the rhymes. It was suggested that letting the words flow naturally would increase the impact that they have. I took this into consideration and this is what I came up with:
The Eternal Whisper (Revised)
It comes in many shapes and styles,
Gliding swiftly across the lands
Reaching out to find its next victim.
There is no decision to be made.
Some may try to fight it,
However, their efforts are in vain.
By the time they sense its presence,
They are already deep within its clutches.
It invades them slowly, so as to savor the moment.
That moment when all will is lost...
Submerged in a desire and passion which cannot be overcome.
Try as they may, they cannot escape its fiery breath.
Its reach is too immense for them to elude it for long.
Soon they will succumb to the sheer pleasure of which it promises.
Only then will it move on...
The eternal whisper of love...
Forever seeking its next victim.