4

These four walls are closing in. No four leaf clover to begin again. Four by four the premise is thin. Just 4 days till Google's end.

Four beats of my heart. Four beats of a drum. Four corners of a table. Four horses in a stable. Four Seasons under the sun. Four pallbearers for this site is done.

For all the things I count in fours. For all the things to go and have no more. For all the things I write in mirth. For all the things left on this Earth. For I the last to write this out. For no one else I search no doubt.

A rhyme in fours for a certain date. Fortuitous rhymes, it must be fate. But I must stop now for Heaven's sake. Four paragraphs of four to seal Google's fate.