Chronicle of the Unknown
The night was silent, dark and cold,
This night I once spoke of so bold.
Watching the August meteor showers
In awe of God's celestial powers.
Lying on my back, scouring the sky,
In my backyard with a childlike eye.
What I came to see that eerie night
Sure as hell wasn't a meteorite.
At first I though it was just a plane,
But then it played a trick on my brain.
Flying in loops, then hoovering still,
I knew no plane could match that drill.
Then a second and third came to eye,
Forming a triangle in the sky.
They looped together, (grace in flight),
Then shot straight up into the night.
Now I know the tricks of a weary mind -
Searching each night since never to find
That motion equaled by anything manmade
Those dancing lights ever again on parade.
When the world thinks you've dove the deep end,
When no-one you know will call you friend.
I can assure you there's no personal glory
When the Enquirer won't even buy the story.
Yet, years later I still feel this need
To tell a story that none would heed.
In such a supreme technological state,
How oxymoronic will be our fate.
For I've deciphered messages from afar,
Transmissions from an unnamed star,
Where I know they watch with laughter,
The goals mankind seems to be after.
Touching that knot behind my earlobe -
I wonder if that's where they've stuck a probe.
Or perhaps to this earth I was sent
As a form of their punishment.
Or if anyone here at all might share
This overwhelming wave of despair.
I wonder if I will ever be free
Of this human body enslaving me.
[This message has been edited by Michael (edited 09-30-1999).]