Flight comes with a flaw;
Careless as in squalls,
And random within dreams,
But the artist still runs free.
Solid as a stone,
Steady and so bold.
Survives very long,
But lacking what was done.
Burns as bright as day,
So young, so violent and free;
Some will come around,
But maturing will never be.
Flowing all around;
Fluid as the sea.
Going as it goes,
Without a care indeed.
Creating fire's rage,
The rage spills over way too far, and water doses it.
That is not the end for this long endless path,
For two more were created since,
And two more left line for track.
Some may think these will doom the future's life,
But change is what we need.
Truly only the first ten rights
Will create a wrong that wins.
