Accord

I would give life
so I might never break,

miss and ache.

I’d surrender
to be nothing I make.

Where’s the line
between raving and mad,

good and bad?

I know I miss
what’s lost and never had.

I pain for some;
have and lost contradict.

Wants afflict.

The hostile day
lets memory constrict

all I have dreamed,
the strength in my belief —

a sneak thief.

Swept to dusk,
sleep allows small relief.

If it takes life
then it all I award,

will afford.

Take wholly
if the lost is restored.