Die, an'a ?

One I wrote.

Dihanna

Her name was Dihanna
she came from the sea.
She wore linens and goatskin
drank sweet lemon tea
her eyes behind shadows
hard to tell when she cried
She wrote poems in wind song
hard to hear what she sang
On a cool April morning she fell in the street
no eye there to see her, she died on that day
now lonely in slumber she wandered alone crost the void
seeking God or a guardian
she found none, only fear
one morning did find her alone where she lay
then another and another
thousands of mornings passed her way
Her poems did find her in the winds gentle quiet
they comforted her, she cried some
they were all that she had
another morning in April she rose once more to her feet
She screamed out her poem then against the wind guiding thee
she punched hard into the shadows, wiped her eyes on her blouse
fought thousands of enemies, fought herself, fought her fears
Now a lonely old woman and all by design Dihanna shook her arms.
Her first demands in this life....