By Shayne Terry <byron212@yahoo.com>

Rated: PG-13

Submitted: June 2001

Summary: Who is Lois's secret admirer?

Author's Note: Rights to all recognizable characters in this story belong to DC Comics and Warner Brothers, and no infringement is intended by their use in this story.


My love keeps me strong.

I know she doesn't see me; life can be cruel sometimes. That those who are bright flames in the darkness should be blinded by their own light is one of the world's greatest ironies. The great ones should never be alone but often are.

I watch her sometimes, huddled over her desk, focused on the task with such intensity that it is almost breathtaking. For her, the entire world congeals down to a single point, and she allows nothing to get in her way. There are those who resent her for her unyielding pursuit of the truth. I am not one of them. I can only admire the dedication she has for her cause, the strength of will that allows her to cow even powerful men.

She's beautiful of course, but her greatest beauty isn't in her face or figure; it's in her soul. She's a goddess, and her wrath can make the earth tremble and shake with dismay. She's an elemental force of nature, burning with an internal fire as bright as the sun. I find myself blinded sometimes by her beauty, even when I am across the room.

A man could be burned to a crisp by the simplest glance; it would take a better man than I to withstand her scorn. If it weren't for Pandora's gift, I would fall into a black pit of despair, the sense of the unattainable overwhelming me. Hope is all that sustains me now, a hope that grows dimmer with each passing day, especially now.

There was a time when I had every confidence that my love would be returned, when I believed that I would somehow discover a wellspring of eloquence that would release the poetry in my soul. It seemed only a matter of time before I found the words I needed to unlock the keys to her heart, but everything changed when my Rival arrived.

She claims not to care for him, but I see a new vibrancy in her step that was missing before. She hasn't lost any of her focus, but somehow, he has found a way to be included in her attentions. He has the place that was meant for me, and yet he doesn't appreciate the gift he has been given.

Jealousy is a harsh mistress, and the glimpses of happiness I see in her eyes make me wish I could be more selfless. He makes her happy, and whether he deserves her or not, he has managed to find a place in her heart. She won't admit it; it is not in her nature to give in so easily to anyone, but I can see.

She's coming near me; I stand and tremble, struggling for the words that will give my love wings. My love is poetry.

I open my mouth, and horrors, it happens again.

"So you and Kent are spending time in the honeymoon suite? Sounds like you won't have much time for working!"

I laugh nervously, my stomach congealing as it does every time I'm around her.

"This is going to be strictly business. Kent understands that, and if I hear that you've been spreading rumors to the contrary, Ralph, I'm going to make you regret it to your dying day."

Kent gives me a dirty look and follows behind her. I wait until they are out of sight before giving a moan of despair. I don't know what demons possess me when I open my mouth in her presence; it's as though the gods of love cursed me from the moment I was born. I was never gifted with beauty, but I know the soul of women enough to know that physical appearance can be overlooked.

I am a poet with no audience, a scribe without a quill.

My love is all that keeps me strong.