Broken

In the warmth of the nest, where twilight bleeds,

Two fledglings soared where the cold wind leads.

Their laughter now echoes like ghosts in the gloom,

As autumn’s dead fingers snuff out the bloom.

Once they flew together through skies etched in fate,

Now silence divides them with cold, ancient hate.

Their golden path glimmers, a lure for the blind,

While the wind tells truths they'd rather not find.

The path ahead gleams, yet wears deep decay,

And silence consumes what no words can say.

Families unravel like threads pulled free,

Tossed to the mercy of a merciless sea.

No final farewell, no anchor to stay,

Just quiet unraveling, day after day.

Two souls grow distant, then vanish from sight,

Carried by time into opposite night.