The real stealth bomber-
able to blend, and at times spark devastation,
One mans own is another's intuition-
blood level that of Beezlebub himself.
However! You still choose to attend a nine to five?
Masterful like a blacksmith's award winner-
you test the medulla for critical precises,
Don't burn your establishment down-
for not to seek mine shall you if be gone,
handouts are much easier when you're rationed.
But still you don't think as one-
blurry the night and the road see many,
Poorest of those who conform their spiritual prowess-
not to ones' wants, but to ones' needs,
muzzled aspirations gain bottled trust.
It's in death we can not look further-
an unseen hand may not abide,
Earthly dreams hit love struck gods-
forgiven new light he regained his sight,
lightning lived long after and so did that drunk guy.
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