Once the sky darkens and
when the world sleeps...
let's fly.

You're not awake to see it but I'm truly a spectacle. When the darkness covers the sky and moonlight cascades what's below, you're missing an anomaly. You're gonna miss my flight. Dodging the trees and hunting the prizes that hide in incognito, meanwhile I'm just coasting. No pressure. No pressure. I'm still surviving. I'm still flying.

Earth awakens with the sun
and I bloom from beneath the shadows
gallantly roaming the blue
looking down at where I once was
eager to stay up.

Regardless of will or reluctance, you pay your respects to what soars above. You know I'll thrive from your revere, or lack thereof. The dominance remains. Along side the clouds I'll reign. No pressure. No pressure. I'm still thriving, I'm still flying.

Confident.
Regal.
Alluring.
Naked.
Endearing.

Beauty is one thing but this one is stunning. It's majesty and it's charm are really something. Simply poetry in flight. Sailing the skies, scaling these heights. As fresh as the air, it's refreshing to stare. He's his best when he's up there. No pressure. No pressure. I'm now gliding. This is flying.

This is a tribute to
The Owl, The Eagle, The Crane.
The Thinker, The Strong, The Triumph.
This is a tribute to
The little Bahamian boy.

This is a tribute to me.

Congrats you !
You did it !
You won.
How does it feel ?
You must be proud...
cause you're an *******.

Being the deciding factor was such the priority.
Casualties of war, such a small price for authority.
Here's a message to you, the ******* majority...
"Please shoot, cause I'm shooting back." signed, The Minority.

We're not the victor,
don't give us your spoils.

This ain't no "up rise".
This is the end to the compromise.
In the defense of The Antagonized,
we're not responsible for this divide.

We're not the victor,
don't give us your spoils.

We trusted the secrets.
You were trusted to tell.
We wanted to talk.
You wanted to yell.
We wanted to move on.
You wanted to dwell.
You destroyed our heavens
and created our hells.

We're not the victor,
don't give us your spoils.

We gave you a community.
You and all your unwanted could have lived here.
You had the fairness, the compassion, the love.
We were in your corner,
all of them.
We were unwavering.
You had us in the palm of your hand...
so you crushed us.
So here are the fruits of your labour.
They're not so fresh.
You're left with the flies and the stench!
I hope this taste stains your tongue
and the odor scorches your nostrils.
After all,
you've earned it...

the spoils.