Gentle Brutus,

Your absence disconcerts me,

In a way I feel the future.

I prophesy and yet,

Due to my standing,

Am unallowed to speak the thoughts that do plague my mind.

Oh, but my silence condemns me to a life of hell as it does you to your death.

My life hath become a sundial;

The shadows backward counting the minutes.

Imminent is my demise at the hands of my love for you,

And the duty I feel for my father, noble Cato.

He hath ended his life unnaturally due to the same reason I end mine: Caesar.

Caesar hath an ability to break the lives of those around him,

Frighten and press those to commit a dire last act.

My father took his life to escape the Caesar.

For him, and for you and for the stars you stare upon now, die I will.

And Gentle Brute, that I may die to see you live again.

Live, in a kingdom where no scourge can separate our love

And no one man can hold monopoly over the fates.

Those sisters that conspire against mortals.

Women who sit in the sky and laugh at our tribulations

Whilst they manipulate the cosmos and thus attempt to end our love

As a gladiator might manipulate the small irritant of a beast who fights him to the death.

Brutus, look not down when you see this note

Or when you hear of me in this sad context.

Go on ye must, protected by your goodness

And the love I feel for you as no other can.

Your wife,

Portia