I imagine soaring on my wings of fire,
High above the heavens,
I ignite with power.
Down below I see,
The liars and... "friends".
Sometimes I wonder,
If they can do this.
Exultant manoeuvres,
Purposeful self-majesty.
They can’t do this.
As the streamline imprints the sky,
With letters, words, reality.
Maybe when I die, the air will remember...
Something, at least.













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