We were four hands tangled in the sun,
Running through laughter we thought would outrun.
Days dripped golden, like honey on skin
A warmth that we swore would never grow thin.
But storms aren’t loud when they first arrive
They slither through cracks we thought could survive.
He poisoned the air with a soft spoken lie,
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And we watched our kingdom collapse from the sky.
Now two of us wander the echoes we keep,
A home that still haunts us, awake and asleep.
For even without the dagger that tore,
We are only two, when we once were four.
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