There are three of them, that makes an entity of one
Everyone can see they are complete
When they enter battle, they won’t stop until they’ve won
Out of all good men, they’re the elite

Yet one day a fourth appeared; reckless, young and strong
Filled with grief but not allowed to grieve
And the three made space for him, as if he did belong
And the young man simply didn’t leave

Unexpected, hard to grasp, but somehow it’s not wrong
That the boy, the fourth, just fit right in
And the three can’t help but feel they’ve been four all along
And he just caught up; ”Where have you been?”

6/1 2015