Skyborn Visionary

 

The joy of thinking is being free to take the skies. 

Faster and further beyond your eyes. 

Stretching out into thought knowing who shall I me,

Do say is yet the dominant be.

Pretty boy blue, coming into you. 

The arftul nigga who could figure. 

Beyond the practice of flight there is a purpose. 

Pretty being art baby blue. 

The thinking joy is soaring high,

Loving limits beyond the eye,

Stretching thought, painting the view,

Who shall I be? The chosen true.

Pretty boy you, Art Baby Blue,

A master of art, creating the cue.

Upon the wings, kissing the night,

Purpose calls—igniting I light.

The sky is mine, the world my zoom,

Speaker moon who shines bright.

Light beamings forth, creating wins,

Crowned in gold, I opening wings.