Not every fall
is fatal—
egos are meant
to be knocked
around.

Speed is a
welcome blessing—
the air
parts
if you angle
right.

We think flame
means failure—
but even stars
get soft
on the way
down.

There’s a trick
to it—
lose your wings
tighten thoughts
let heat
scour what
doesn’t belong.

Come through
the sky—
not screaming
but sealed
in defiance—
carving
back the world.