I live for those cats whom simply snarl back when I bare my teeth.

Those kids with green eyes and a killer instinct, finger guns in the air shooting the breeze all swagger about the daggers in their smile. 

The no rope's heavy enough to hang this hope humans who have clocked its all a game and now sit steady scoping like a snake who spotted where to catch a ladder, silently rolling the dice between fingers memorising the curves and turns.
so that when the throw comes, the full force of purpose kills any competition.

The plotters, the rats, the bombers, alley cats

and those seldom speakers keeping a faith lit religious in their heart.

This is for those biding-their-time motherfuckers, those who step still undercover. 

Those who work to find a want to need, those who need to work to want to but don't let dreary days shift their bones to nonchalance. 

Im with you, you fucks, let's collapse the castle, I've got no plans other than success
so i'll see you climbing over those bodies that mountain as the rest.