The Shape Of Twisted Air

The chosen one  
who knows he's chosen  
but has been feeling lazy and scared  
 
..best bestow the  
crown and throne upon  
some pseudo son or hired heir  
or one who flies on air,  
or one whose fractures flare,  
whose status dares compassion  
but nobody dares,  
one meant to end it all and  
make all feel small  
like existing characters  
are not more tall, informed and well equipped,  
better skilled at whipping the whip  
around corners,  
in villainous twists  
spun by diligent wrists  
I spill splinters down  
spliffs when eyes hide behind  
subliminal wrists, danced upon by  
dimples making depressions leaking in drips  
of shadows,  
shade of smoke  
casts fast atop trembling lips,  
shoulders, stomach and hips, she's toking