With a sombre resplendence,
The striking force ploughed though
The iron gates whilst the coy demure
Of the launch pad sat idol.
Striking through all good, evil
Some may be a profound anguish
As the landing seems
To be like that which
Has only been found in the eyes of
Satan.
As he lay wishing,
His time would come.
With the bemusement of others round.
Like the cold air striking the warmth
Of the splendid golden sands,
He wishes, he wishes.
Through the cold winter,
The warm Sun like that of a miracle.
From the southern cold comforting nomads
To the warm natives as the equator.
He wishes, he wishes.
Like the time will come
When his wish of a million people
Will come true.
The achievement like the gorilla who spoke
In plain English. Sits the man
Who forever longed.
Ring, ring ring.
Suspense flowing as the trembling figure
Speaks.
Call out.
With the roaring gunshot,
Invalid ghastly figures. A
Flood of red surrounding.
Last chance
Prayer to the holy matrimony.
Last prayer.
Awoken by the
Sound of buzzing.
Relief all round.
Stitched up heart
Like the new stitched up
Hope. As he lay dying.
I sat. In hope.
Pushing his wheels,
I shudder.
If only.
I wished.