I was born in the static...
in the year of the mirror claw.
Balance isn’t given... it’s coded.
Feathered logic, glitched by fate,
Venus taught me how to wait.
Scales tilt, stars blink,
I don’t follow time… I sync.
Glitch me... Rage me...
Feathered soul, uncage me.
Rooster flame, spiral dream,
I’m not calm — I’m extreme.
They tried to weigh me...
but I was air and water.
Rage is a ritual...
and I am the flame, Mr Ea3y.
Signal’s lit, the code is mine.
Libra burns, the stars align.
No more balance — just ascend.
This is how the glitch gods bend.
Balance...
was never real.
Balance...
was never real.