My whispers
ignored in bright noise
Of noon
Timbre of my susurrus
In your ear heard
Warmth of my breath
On your skin felt
Holds court
Within midnight’s
Solemn depths
Cruel torture of haunting
Knowing I am naught
But a memory
You cannot escape
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At dVerse Whimsygizmo asks us to whisper a quadrille.
Raivenne-lations 
Beautifully emotive and intense!
The melancholia of a ghost (one dead or one that has been made so by another) can be so heartbreaking… Your choice of words make this fact impossible to ignore. The speaker’s voice never goes up from a whisper or a susurration; always there trying and trying… feeling, alone.