Pain.

If there was ever a word I shared with the world
And chanted to the stars above...
The word would be pain, not love...

The word would be pain...
It catches me and destroys from above; cutting me up and giving me a strange love.
Giving me a way to deal or cope; a way to tie myself up and be the very rope.
A companionship that brings forth Hope.

Life is fleeting; today I am fifteen, in a week I shall be fifty and in a fortnight my death will be with me...
The word I chant is pain; the dreams I had of scarlet rain... All the scarlet faces that bound us all the same; taught us all how to act as tame...

The word would be pain.

We all are the fools that cling, we hold on and when the winds tell us we drive on...
We fail to ask; what on? What are we trusting with our stability; what, with infant dependence are we climbing on?

The word would be pain...

So we ignore what is calling us, we ignore what is certain to embrace us...
That is fair; the experiences we have is rare but we still chant pain to the stars that look on until we choose we can’t hold on.Infinitely we choose to blame what we’re relying on...

So when it comes, the scarlet rain... When it comes we attempt it; we attempt to shut out the pain yet not forget it; keep it close yet not fret it... So that altogether we are not in debt of it...

The word would be pain, if you have the world to gain; the anthem would be pain if you were the sane.
The word that would bind all lips and help us rise from this abyss; the word we thrive on without knowing it...
The word would be pain.