death poetry

i am a woman
master of human destinies am i
to clothe the fiery thought
under a spreading chestnut tree
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
look out upon the stars, my love
but i cannot read you now
before the solemn bronze saint
our pleasant moments fly
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
the long resounding marble corridors
this is the ship of pearl
a pen of steel
gone are the three, those sisters rare