In shadows cast by legends’ flight,
Two titans stand, once fused in light,
Robert Plant, with voice like flame,
And Jimmy Page, with riffs untamed.
The wind has turned from harmonies sweet,
Now whispers stir, where friendships meet.
A house divided, echoes of old,
In corridors of gold, stories unfold.
What binds them still, those chords of yore,
Is the pulse of rock that they once bore.
Yet, like the stage ablaze at night,
Their paths diverge, retreat from sight.
The notes they played in fleeting time,
Resonate in sacred rhyme,
But tensions rise, a storm once calm,
Creating ripples, setting off alarm.
The fans, like stars in endless sky,
Look on in shock as dreams comply,
To fears of discord, please don’t break,
This legacy that hearts still ache.
Where once they danced, in sync, a pair,
Now silence grips the heated air.
The echoes linger—what might have been,
A phantom melody beneath their skin.
What becomes of a tune unplayed?
What hope when bonds begin to fade?
Yet in the silence, hope survives,
For music’s heart, it never dies.
Through every discord, love can mend,
The stage awaits, the curtain bends.
And should they find a path anew,
These icons may yet bridge the blue.
Let not the worries mar the past,
For moments flash, but love can last.
As long as guitars can strum and sing,
Creating art from suffering.
So here we stand, as fans do wait,
In hope that love can navigate,
This tempest, fierce, this storm inside,
For in their hearts, the fire’s not denied.
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