It is a word of four, created to prevent sacrifices and war
To some it’s the fundamental core, for each relationship and more
To the rest it’s a cursed floor, on which they wouldn’t walk, not anymore
To be honest it may leave you sore, as it slides away and slams the ancient door
To say it’s a gamble you must explore,
could be a lie or the truth you’ll have to endure
To reveal the word is a must, that if it’s only one and not several clouded by dust.
It’s the Word itself we don’t communicate by
It’s the Care we keep kissing goodbye
It’s the Love we’re scared of and rarely retry
It’s the Luck we couldn’t control nor defy
It’s the Pain we let it grow and never justify
It’s the Life we miss living until we die.
Written by: Marouan Elmail Photo by: Jason Blackeye