Night Mission II
In the hidden hours of some late night
in a land of previously unknown half-emotion feelings
I felt the need to put pen to paper
and express myself in some obscure poetic way.
But the screaming howl of jet thrust
that blazing glare reflecting off
a curved glassy canopy, and droplets sparkling
like stars of water, stained an eery blue
and the didgital screen overlaying its green navigation cues
and sense onto the pitch black void,
was my world at this point in time
somewhere between waypoint Sierra and Theta
about 15' 7" from panic.
a still and almost silent world of radio silence
and uncertainty.
As time stands still, and the numbers flick backwards
I write this.
a verbal description of the indescribable
the emotions of this killer pilot
on his way to wage war on objectave unoka at 35,000 ft
watching the flames of bombs, as the tounges of death
silently begin to suck on the life on unknowable victims
screaming with pain. Silently to the distant hollow hiss
while night hawks,black with death circle
as vultures over the dying
void... imagination only.
the bombs were delivered accuratley
on 037'S 012'W
And after the gentle pull settles at Tango
and the hushed whir of the computer is silenced.
I begin to think of the world,
my co-ordinates
my speed
my weapon
and somewhere back, just out of reach in the closet of my mind...
myself, those people down below, unaware of me,
and somewhere of my MFD map. Some girl I may have loved in that
other life.
away from this terrible phantom void
on the brink of madness and death.