The Loss

How it lasted, How it went. Should we consider What was spent? Even birds And the bees Make mistakes And lean on trees. What have I That allows Inconsistence In what's allow'd? Fickle wish, Hot desire. My teasing mind, What I admire. I wander, Circling, I chase myself: Following. Death causes me Not to turn, But embrace. I again yearn. Loving arms Calling me. I search for them, But can't see. Without sight, Blindly moving. No more flight: I am lost. How it lasted, How it went. More than just living Life was spent.