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Fractured Horizon
Sky—unstitched, unspoken—
a riddle unraveled in shards of fire,
falling upward, downward, nowhere,
reflections bleeding into the edges of time.
Hands unseen move silence like tides,
placing voids where answers should be,
each piece, a whisper, almost fitting,
almost whole, almost real.
Dawn hums in broken echoes,
light bending through missing shapes,
as if the sky itself forgot
what it was meant to be.
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