Chasing After the Sun

The sun is low, and I must hurry
To check the bird's magestic wings
And as a proud flightless servant
forget the woe that future brings

With headless generals aplenty,
Who play this wicked child's game,
I step ahead and touch her nethers,
To warm the chills with metal feathers,
The words are new, yet old 's the flame.

A soldier has a billion faces,
United all with hate and pride,
And held together with the laces
adorning boots that make us cry

A dreamer or even just a peasant,
A killer, widowmaker, scum,
An aviator - wingless bat of fury,
Among those things, I'm all on earth
Yet in the sky, not even one.

The mission, orders, and mass murder,
Are only incidental to my impending run
They're clumsy tools with just one real purpose -
Allow my chase after the sun.

The universe owes us a future,
A debt we can't forgive or alter,
Yet as I push upon the throttle
The voice inside me yields away
And nothing anymore can ever falter.

The clouds bow to my increasing haste
and as the fiery chariot begins to slow,
A boom that you can almost taste
Awakens me - the only real me I know

That feel I dream of every night,
Ideal that's so seemingly exalted.
As I push forward more and more
A miracle of biblical proportions -
The chariot of Ra has turned to me and simply halted

With no awareness that time stands frozen
The clouds far below are creeping by,
For once content with paths we've chosen
Her wings hold me, I let her fly

Yet even in such epic scene,
We won't admit to getting satisfaction,
We tax our engines ever more,
And slip ahead adorned with grins
Reserved for only those defying Earth's attraction

The clouds blur and disappear,
Horizon curves away before our eyes,
And even though the end is near,
The setting sun begins to rise.