Aerodynamics beat chicanery: A poem 

They tried to cut off my feet 

as if it were a cardboard cutting 

to pull me out like knitting 

away from my haloed ground 

But I am not unwitting 

like a kite in a sky of terror 

attached to the twine of captors  

I am not headless in a headwind 

my arms have lengths of flying dragons  

I am destined to have my engines 

roaring always and burning 

I have carved temples of stone and gold 

in times’ posterity to unfold 

These are dreams from friendly dimensions 

that unlock the prisons of evil’s minions 

 They can’t clinically amputate my purity 

I have flown even when I was grounded 

I have battled even when I was surrounded 

Treacherous Prakash Saint Paul, you must know 

there is no hail or snowstorm wherever I go 

Whoever cast evil eyes on my aerodynamics 

I can keep beating you at your own tricks!!