What is that four-letter...

IT’s like a chill wind now
running through bare trees
no leaves rustle
no blossoms’ scent carried

IT’s like a harsh gale
going over an arid land
no sand form dunes
no crevices whistle a tune

IT’s like a dry gust
blowing around empty lakes
no jumping carp to caress
no tall grass to blow down

IT’s nothing
going nowhere
achieving naught today
yet
IT lives
this useless element

IT thrives
on pain
coursing to finger tips
knifing insides

IT’s four letters
a world of meaning
in a single word
too deceitful to utter...

“Hope springs eternal...

... for peace to reign between us,” you wrote.