broken heart poem

we break the glass whose sacred wine
i was a goddess ere the marble found me
the agony of having too much power
lady, your heart has turned to dust
in his guarded tent
a flying word from here and there
over the river, on the hill
did you ever hear of
gone before us
a look is but a ray
my sorrow, when she's here with me
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale