We called them scrapers because they cut the skies, scraping an itch of ego, wishing to
rise a precipice, ivory towers everywhere.
Our lungs have changed, our breathing shallow, our limbs shimmer, the cold is breathtaking.
Zenith Federation controls this space, flying in their flying lungs, fresh air circulating,
taking ours.
We are slowly breaking their towers, taking away their lines in the sky, making our own
ships to fly and burst through their control.
We stand tall, we stand all, we are not like their ego.
We will never fall.