suicide poetry

that strange companion came on shuffling feet
have you not heard
the agony of having too much power
her face is fair and smooth and fine
i hold your heart
i love the old melodious lays
to the passionate lover
from song and dream for ever gone
who loves the rain
those black eyes i once so praised
there were three in the meadow by the brook
though i am little as all little things
to come so soon to this imagined dark
when the wind works against us in the dark