with cato gone, it's only us left standing,
we won, together our voices demanding,
but the gamemakers had other plans in mind
forcing us to kill the other as they designed.
we aren't leaving this arena together, so
you decide that no one is leaving this show.
a fistful of poison berries creeps out
of your pocket, we are dead no doubt.
panem watches the berries reach
our mouths, the gamemakers screech.
stop! they yell, ending the games
with two victors; two names.
this has never happened before,
president snow is angry for sure.
