Goetia
Active member
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L'art Du Déplacement
The cold of a dark, winter night,
The heat of a bright, summer day,
No matter where, I shall take flight,
The wind is with me today.
With the bounding of my feet, I launch away,
My hands meeting the roughness of stone,
The art of movement, fast as light, elegant as ballet,
Running away, or towards, I’ll escape from all that is known.
My eyes face forward, but my mind knows all,
Soaring through the air, I’ve found freedom,
I drop, but I do not fall,
The adrenaline, the thrill, it all exists…beyond the edge of reason.
Soaring through the air, I’ve found freedom,
I drop, but I do not fall,
The adrenaline, the thrill, it all exists…beyond the edge of reason.
Through the darkness of lost cities, to the light of the streets,
Over the rooftops and onto the hard asphalt,
Running, jumping, all these acrobatic feats,
Make me more alive than anything I’ve ever felt.
I take to the world, like an addict to drugs,
For the street is my world, there’s no place I cannot reach,
Experiencing more than that of any civilian slug,
The passion and beauty of this wonderful art, I wish to teach.
They stare me down, as if I were some common criminal,
With my flips and tricks, who would not?
But they aren’t to blame; their naivety is my miracle,
For I have the perfect disguise, the one I've always sought.
For the street is my world, there’s no place I cannot reach,
Experiencing more than that of any civilian slug,
The passion and beauty of this wonderful art, I wish to teach.
They stare me down, as if I were some common criminal,
With my flips and tricks, who would not?
But they aren’t to blame; their naivety is my miracle,
For I have the perfect disguise, the one I've always sought.
