In a room full of flies, I enter
But my eyes go to the one fluttering in the centre
With its hands raised, addressing to the swarm,
perhaps plotting something big, meaning to cause harm
With only a swatter in my hand, like a soldier in a battlefield, I charge
Dodging every opponent and the incoming artillery barrage
As I get closer to the General in the middle
remembering all my life gone by playing a second fiddle
Now is the time to end this story,
Calls for a dramatic climax to reclaim the lost glory
I swing my swatter with the precision of a clock
Slashing its thorax and left wing in a single deciding knock
Now that I’ve found in myself, the inner self, an inspiring ally
It’s time to take on the world, sting like a bee and float like a butterfly