My Love for Caesar

My Dear Friend Caesar

by: Tonya Clark - Gibbs

In many eyes he is a tyrant.

A man with a mask with disgusting intentions.

One that believes that he is a god,

who controls all of his henchmen.

For these things I find false, except one.

I have known him for years,

And through these times I have feared him.

I was swept up with his seductive whispers,

For this man, is one that I will forever love.

He is a friend I do not dare wish to depart.

But in the night, the ones filled with hunger & revenge,

I turn towards my mentor.

My mentor, the one with the power to bash all

The seductive words and feed me what I want.

For I am nothing, but a naive vulture.

Am I a coward?

I have failed the one I love.

And thus I pray to the gods above.

Spare me from this agony for I can not take this.

I pray to my mother Servilia

And to my father Marcus Brunis.

Where do I go now?

My wife Portia, Cato’s daughter waits for me.

But can I endure her judging eyes?

How deep does love go before I am the one stabbed?

I fear for the enviable.

How I wished I didn't dance with the devil.

He calls in my nightmares and even my dreams!

I have no peace.

I lie awake at night, sobbing for the wicked thoughts that consume me.

This is not who I am.

Again I say, may the gods spare me.

I’ve been tricked, into conspiring you see.

The madness drives on delivering powerful blows.

Oh, please have pity, for I am a man of candor.

I did not mean to sin.

I remember a time where me and him would talk.

He would joke of the commoners.

He would joke of the many people he had bed.

But he was still a good friend even before..

He became so powerful.

Thus, I must confess I do not know if he was truly a tyrant.

My heart aches in the night.

Mark Antony’s ferocious anger growls at me.

Then I chuckle to myself of my stupidity.

I purposely didn't follow the plan,

For my dear old friend.

My one love, Caesar.

I cry out again.

I'm covered in his prized blood.

His second to last words snarl in my ear harshly:

“Et tu, Brutè?”

How I wish I wasn't the last one to stab,

For my heart aches as he stays dead.

No longer to speak again.

I ponder, was it murder?

It couldn't have been murder,

I'm not a savage.

I did this for the state.

I did this for honoring our gods, to bring good fortune!