sad death poem

gone are the three, those sisters rare
one with you
backward, turn backward
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
there is an hour of peaceful rest
melancholy, blue it was
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
that year
which keeps
i hold your heart
night is dark, and the winter winds
sadly speaking