As I flew through the air with the greatest of ease,
Toward mid-Florida's Tampa Bay not the Keys.
I sat cramped in my little seat and wrote,
Such a good poem I just had to weep.
Flight 309:
Fifth day Approaches,
Week drained Forth.
Time clock Punches,
Apathetic the Course.
Walls closing In,
Forcing souls to Leave.
No Resistance Begins,
Matters not what you Believe.
No one Walking,
Side by Side.
No one Daring to,
Say Good Bye.
Weekend sealing their visionless Fate,
Grab bag of Uncertainty.
Menacing watchman at the Gate,
Director of Reality.
Strain to hear the Eagle's Song,
Frail fabric unloosed String.
Long quick jerk they're pulled Along,
Forgotten figments bind Everything.
Unfolding wings take flight,
Lift the Beast into the Sky.
Blossoming from brothers Wright,
Pin points reduce by distance High.
Wild eyes stare out windows Steel,
Ascending through a wing swept Field.
Wishes grounded praying Kneel,
Onward driven direction Reeled.
Sudden Terror summons from Within,
Moving parts crack and Spread.
Mighty turbine can no longer Spin,
Thoughts of wonder turn to Dread!
I can't believe this to be True,
Gasping, Wailing, Clenching Breath.
Passengers, Pilots, All the Crew,
Jet Race towards an early Death!
Just as sudden a dream they're In,
Minds blown seem to be replaced.
Knowing not what has Been,
Or even just what is the Case.
As they turn their heads Around,
Eerie silent strobe light Blink.
Eagle still drones never touches Down,
Faces blank no one can Think.
Once happy content smiling Souls,
Perception's not enough to heed the Signs.
Now limp and listless oh so Droll,
As they climb time after time aboard Ghost Flight 309...
