1 step, 2 step, 3 step, 4
You walk up with your eyes so sore
You take the railings and the floor,
but no one knew what was the core.
The marble so cold,
like the hearts they hold.
The game was old,
and the people so bold.
Twists and turns in every step,
or straight cut borders in every ups.
You lose your breath at the tops,
what you often defined as your hopes.
You dive in deep to the depths,
waiting for the play of your death.
You had the cards to be picked,
and reminiscing got you tricked