PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Through the heavens sky a plane flies,

Ascending to the final rest of it’s passengers.

Unaware it’s greed for divine consumption,

Would cause it’s fall from grace.



The aviator dies in a jungle below the skies,

the hopeful souls eager to get redemption.

They shout to the air for their salvation,

A harmony of lost souls caught in resentment



Struggling to survive the souls tarry on.

Unable to fly but determined to struggle,

In vein they toy with the transmitter,

No signal sent, no hope returned.



Breathing hard they hack through the jungle,

Each soul resigned to find their own peace.

Joining up they plunge through the forest,

Each supporting the other for the fruit of the attempt



Faster and faster they begin to move,

Now shed of the mortal coil.

They enjoy the fun they never had in life,

The fellowship being strong from their demise



And suddenly they stop their tracks,

Infront of them a shining breathless vehicle.

The plane glimmering in the sun,

Standing on the tracks of a deity.



They start it up and begin to fly,

Higher and higher above the trees they soar.

So hope was given once more to them,

The souls could finally think of their rest.



But the mechanics started to flutter,

Engine shaking and falling apart.

Slowly the plane began a dive unto the earth,

The souls knew not what to do.



In one moment of beautiful clairity,

The souls looked to the sky.

They hoped their god would save them,

They screamed for him to save them.



And they plunged further towards the ground,

Not ready for the lack of salvation again.

The souls cried and screamed not for their lives,

But for entrance into redemption.



And it hit,

The souls lay on the ground.

Despair striking them all,

The group unaware of action.



Then one of them stood up and began to walk,

He walked into the groves of mangrove trees.

One by one the souls began to follow,

Not knowing nor caring where they were being led.



Shallow and shamed they looked to their leader,

Who set about the trees and the works of god.

He chopped them down and threw them forth,

And the rest did follow.



Together they made their last chance,

Building their own plane, forcing themselves to work.

One by one constructing their own alpha,

So they can seek the entrance to omega.



For days they toiled until at last it was built,

Starting up the machine they gave a cheer.

Then they rode the plane up to the skies,

Sending message’s to heaven for acceptance.



Instead of crying they stayed silent,.

All that could be heard was their breaths.

Determined to make it that one last time,

…and heaven let them in.