Not yet…
Not yet…

It’s not over.
Not yet.

Still loading.
Don’t bet.

You feel it turning—
don’t blink.

It’s not over.
Not yet.

(…not yet…)

I don’t rush when the air get thin.
I don’t show where the edges bend.
You can sense when the weight shift in—
that’s the part where it all begin.

No grand speech.
No early crown.
Just quiet moves that carry sound.

You hear calm—
I hear ground
preparing for the next round.

There’s a tremor under the surface.
You just haven’t traced it yet.
Every pause got purpose in it.
Every step collect.

It’s not over.
Not yet.

Still loading.
Don’t bet.

You feel it turning—
don’t blink.

It’s not over.
Not yet.

Watch how the silence start to hum.
Watch how the pressure learn to run.
You mistake the wait for done—
that’s when the real work come.

I don’t flare.
I don’t warn.
I just let the shape transform.

When it rise, it won’t announce.
When it land, it won’t bounce.

You’ll just know
something moved
without a sound.

Count slow.

1… 2… 3…

Feel the floor adjust.

It’s not over.
Not yet.

Still loading.
Don’t bet.

You feel it turning—
don’t blink.

It’s not over.

Not yet.

Wait for it.