And I, (much as I have tried
To bury Her from mind,
Fate's tourniquet was tied, when She died...)
Still sense Her presence so divine
Lithe arms about my throat
Like pining swans entwined
Footfalls at nightfall close to mine

Suicide is a tried and tested formula for release

I snatch Her whisper like the wind through cedars
See Her face in every natural feature
Midst the mist and sleepy hollows of fever...