The Song of Father P2
My son—
do not run.
Stay close,
the world is full of snares.
I have carried you
through nights of thunder,
through roads of hunger and dust.
My arms were a shield,
my breath your lullaby.
But now—
I cannot hold the storm.
My voice cracks,
yet still I sing:
My son, dear son,
walk gently,
do not stumble.
Your name is carved
in the marrow of my bones.
If the earth swallows me,
remember this:
I fought for the light
so you could rise.
Sing my song when you are weary.
Sing it as your shield.
And know—
even in silence,
I am beside you.
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