Late Summer Sunbeams

 

The nineteen take flight; on repurposed aircraft,
“Just following orders.” Their droned mantra, daft.
To first punch the time clock; and, next, go berserk?
They must ho-hum the mindset, “All in a days work.”

What darkness sours their souls? What pisses them off?
Why make light of sweet life; disparage and scoff?
To so flippantly flip off the heart of humanity,
Is the height of inanity; and utter insanity,
Indeed, such ‘tudes fly; in the face of all reason,
No kind soul should be subject; to an open season.

The nineteen now wage their cold-blooded attack,
Storm the four cockpits; to wrest and hijack,
New vectors veer off each craft; the one-way trip track,
Twin towered, five-sided strikes! Our world taken aback!

What darkness sours their souls? What pisses them off?
Why make light of sweet life; disparage and scoff?
To so flippantly flip off the heart of humanity,
Is the height of inanity; and utter insanity,
Indeed, such ‘tudes fly; in the face of all reason,
No kind soul should be subject; to an open season.

Nearly three grand, grand innocents; now see the light,
They earn and test their new wings; promptly take flight,
Late summer’s sunbeams now guide them; on day nine eleven,
They disembark at the gate, which gleams brightly in heaven.