And there they are read, there, they are gleaned, for all to ponder, for all to deem, for it is a realm that harbours query leaving all
with nowt but theory.
So now, hear tell, of a time now blind, 'tis a moment in history now blanketed with mystery.
Arrival…
People of Earth, I arrive unto thee,
For far have I travelled, universally,
And I tell of a tale, seeding oddity,
A shadowy fate in shrouds draped.
For these are the days of electronic eyes.
Now, do ever, do they spy.
They scan the far, they scan the wide,
Engraving the wakes of the steps all take.
Now, hear as I tell of an optical screen,
Depicting that seen by a tracking beam,
For a craft is portrayed, it wanders, it sways.
'tis the sight of a time now lost to all rhyme.
So, come…
Let us forth unto that night,
To lanes of light guiding flights,
See aircraft taxi, to-and-fro,
See pilots sat within cockpits' glow.
Observe…
The sky now dark, the air reels stark,
An engine roars, an aircraft soars,
It darts to the heights of a starlit night
To traverse the riles of the oceans wild.
Cut Off…?
Transmission's range now nears disengage,
"Have a safe flight," the tower cites,
"Thanks, and goodnight," the captain replies.
When…
The transponder wanes, all signals fade.
Obscure…
Above grey clouds the moon wields bright.
And the aircraft glides through the glow of the night.
But on tracker screens, nothing is seen,
And a mystery, deep, is gradually deemed.
The Missing…?
Questions arise, 'does the plane still fly?'
For of that craft, none can espy,
A technical glitch? A hijacking plight?
Where be this flight now lost to all sight?
The Bearing…?
The last known location, an Easterly Ocean,
For 48-hours those waves there are scoured,
But of a wreck, nothing is found.
And globally, a mystery whispers 'confound?'
Visuals…
But in a land, very far away,
A satellite streams data on screens.
And the flight's last path is clearly seen.
Moonlight it roves. Destination unknown.
The Twist…?
To Easterly seas the trace-light beams
Then back it arcs on a homeward path,
To coastal shores the flight then draws,
Over sleeping terrain next roams the plane.
Silence…?
This perplexing change, what be the aim?
The course, now set, to its homeland's West.
And as quiet as the grave communiqué remains.
A corpse-like state, the cryptic, arcane.
The Briny…
We watch the screen, the data, the graph.
Output relays the enigmatic path.
For next the Westerly sea is reached,
And above the marine the trace-line gleams.
Airplane Mode…?
The plane flies on, home turf now gone,
Silence remains. Wi-Fi disengaged?
For none do send to families nor friends.
There be not a whisper. Be this a pilfer?
Curvature…?
In the pitch of the dark, the aircraft arcs.
Its engines yawn. The route re-drawn,
The flight heads North. All look on, taught.
This Northerly course, what there be sought?
Contrived…?
And that which we see, can it be believed?
Is this the real route that the aircraft took?
Or is this a hacker imbedding a tracker,
Breaching with fake to fabricate?
Quandary…?
The rudder swerves, the plane U-turns,
To the South, it veers, perplexity burns.
Why first head East, then fly West,
Why abort the North to Southerly forth?
The Fall…?
We watch the trace, the flight flies straight,
But fuel, now low, the engines bellow,
The screen then dims, the trail-light dies,
Did the plane, there dive, from the heights of the sky?
We ask…?
To gravity's haul did the aircraft fall?
To the ocean's depths, there, does it rest?
In algae entangled, lie it now mangled?
Gripped by seaweed, manacled, strangled?
The Signal…?
The sea is probed for Black-Box chimes.
Of sound, of debris, be there a sign?
But nothing is heard, nor seen, nor found,
And questions profound, abound, confound.
Could this be a satellite hacked?
The intention to hide reality's fact
Of where that aircraft truly flew,
To a land unknown or the depths of the blue?
Riddle…?
And of this enigma, will it ever be solved?
For some declare, "A kidnapper's goal!"
Others say, "Alien stole!" "A time porthole!"
Will the clues of the truth ever be known?
Bibliotheca…
These words, I state, I give to the stars
Of a tale, unknown, of Earthly hours.
'tis a secret, so veiled, that none can tell.
Be there yet life? Or tolls death's knell?
Chronometer…
My duration here, 'tis almost through.
So, I say adieu to your oceans of blue.
I take my leave from yon fields of green
To ponder those mists of hours unseen.
Cloaked…
My compass turns, cruel shadows it yearns,
So, I hoist my sails to venture new tales,
To glimpse those shrouds of coveted hours.
Those enigmas concealed by ironclad shields.
Farewell…
And, my parting gift, I here do state,
For all to ponder, upon all fate…
"In those Hours, Aware, Awake, Which Path should One Deem to Take?"
