The Flight to the Finish

I’m about to cross the line to race towards the takeoff
But the runaway is designed to only take the one’s who ain’t soft
Sweat dripping from my opponent on the left who’s gripping onto how he took no days off
His personal debt needs to be paid off and rightfully so, the rivalry grows
Swivelling over to my forgotten shoulder, his brother is seeking satisfaction from the plane he once lost
Free falling spiritually spirally seeing seasons never reach autumn with no way to leave
No way to spring back up from negative thoughts that creep up and bleed on him
Frantically looking around for a band of aid being the sole beater to his own drum
Caught in a snare where rimshots echo out and stare at ghost notes that tell him to run, though he’s already begun
Surprisingly looking down on his rare feat, cycling through ways that his bare feet could once again cause his demise
Being petrified of previous times he’s jumped the gun preparing for the right sign
Oh, pessimistic soul, shallow waters are serial killing the fruit within your own bowl that you have yet to offer
In a sense, being an uncommon copper it’s improper if you don’t face what’s right
Despite the foreign opinions of you being two-faced, worthless and finite
Oh, my brothers, it is the blood that becomes the ink of your ripening story that will be etched into glory as you type
Surrounding entities with troubled tendencies can’t fathom how much you deserve this life
As you chase dreams of pubescent teens whose minds couldn’t comprehend or discern this right
In the long run of the last stretch, your long legs will reach the last bend even if your soul splits from it’s purchased flight