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time pilot i am the wind, i am a white knife slicing through skies burnt purple by the heat of machine guns and fly-by-wire missiles. i slide like a warm blade through ranks of biplanes, the spray of my bullets cutting them free of the sky and i emerge unscathed on the other side of the line. like a bad moon a fat black zeppelin rises and i fly at its canvas throat like a thrown knife. i tear it to pieces. my plane gleams in the light of the fire, untouched amongst the canvas tatters - a machine, the terrible dream of perpetual energy made real. a white light flashes, the cockpit darkens and i am off to the future and a darker sky. i am invicible, not even time can stop me. |
