The Survivors...

When the kites picks up the momentum, Its sublimed thoughts are in two different stratums, The realistic crystalline omission, the vapor in delirium, The kite picks up the momentum to stardom of kingdom, Gasping for air at the fringe of vacuum of unknown, Racing to the distant destination with the eyes not open, The cajoling of the minds is rhythmic to the heart’s palpitation, The kite picks up the momentum with the snip filament, Aimless at first with no guidance, swaying in the wind nation, Over the carpeted greens and crystalline blue visual spectrum, The kite floats gently and slowly to reach the canopy of realism, The kites can fly high; overcome the fear of failure of gravitation.