A genius, a landing that couldn't survive,
to stay for ever
Living thru it, how do you leave it go
The fire is still alive not ready to burn out
No helmets to prevent you from igniting
Plenty of input to drive you crazy
Lost in nothingness of being ahead
Take me to this place
The place I'm moving toward
I can't get held up, no arms in the sky
To stop me
You don't know, no need to protect me
I will go to this other place
Pure to move me on
Open to what's come in
That brought me this far
It will continue
Yes it will, whatever it is
But perfection only last during your genius,
after it's only what you were able to do
A ride not to last
Just to have,
keep the fire burning
Coals are red, on the edge
To fade or light
To more, a little more
Until its pulled from you
The light the life
He ended in the spinning turning brightness of the uncontrolled burn of of fragrant alcohol exploding in a cylinder, pushed past the point where the last flash goes from in to out. First I felt the light, then the heat, then the sound of all those things you can't read about. What's your choice, inside a racing car.
You missed the spectacle by not being there. You missed this episode, ruined for anything else. A planned view of moving steel, on rubber spinning in dirt. Just another trip around an oval, until the radical particles come together into a convergence of mistaken outcomes. You knew it could. He missed that point by just a split second, and this time what happened lasted just a few more seconds.
Each jar of the hardness of his vehicle catching on the firmness, tacky gravel, momentum throwing him into a spinning curve ball, spraying escaping fluid into a ball of flames, causing that last breath he inhaled the final heat played with his life. It's when control escapes, all the factor explode into moments just before the end. This is the end, my friend.
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