anniversary poetry

for then without
sadly speaking
if the red slayer think he slays
why are the things that have no death
take my bracelets
and so it goes
shades of night were falling fast
do you hear the rain?
when the wind works against us in the dark
all day to watch the blue wave curl and break
i stand in the cold gray weather
daughter, thou art come to die
if i should die, think only this of me