Up high, high up,
everything seemed tiny and mute
the thrill of it did not fool,
for soon, and sooner by the second,
a landing was imminent.

It could have worked, you know,
the fleeting ecstacy of the carefree.
The illusory warmth of comfort and no tomorrow
It could have deceived, pleasantly.

Sorry the rosy picture of thoughtfulness
mature sense of responsibility
Laudable accountability
could not have been more misleading
To paint it thus.

The circumstance was too severe,
there was no mistaking reality for as long as a second.
Death was too close at hand,
Living dead, no less.

Away with consolation
Away with wishful thinking
Away with hoodwinking
Awake to life and reality.