Jet Planes,

whirl and twist fluidly amongst the shear clouds that coat the night sky.

Rhythmically dancing a waltz, presenting the planets with an exquisite dance partner,

spotlights radiate from the stas that flicker in adoration.

Dangerous,

yet presented with such poise and beauty few dare to take precaution.

Painting the sky intricately, each jet stream an amalgam of brilliantly placed hues,

eyes dran to the delicately acquired work of art available for vast enjoyment.

Admiration,

soon to be shattered by the harsh reality that follows.

Fluid brush strokes begin to jolt into rugged shapes--the waltz disrupted,

twisting and whipping continues--the dance ceases to exist.

Nose dive,

the beautifully painted sky, infiltrated by vigorous thrashing, produced by the protruding wings.

The night screamed of sheer terror as the admirers bury their faces--escaping the imperfection,

enthusiasts crumble resulting in a diminished monochromatic ash.

Safety,

a single swift movement launches the plane--once again amongst the thin cotton that coats the stars.

The sky illuminates with beauty as the cherished waltz is reborn in twisted wings and fluid jet streams,

The stars applaud as the planets intertwine--the galaxies built on song.

Shaken,

those blinded by the gleaming rays that romantically danced amongst the planets recover.

Adoration and disbelief raises admirers from the ashes--flourishing with the hues of the galaxies,

lost in the complexity--infatuation grows.

Reality,

The painting hangs for admiration, granted only by those who flourish from the ashes.

Galaxies composed by fluid jet streams that waltz precisely and transform into jagged lines of uncertainty,

Destined to repeat--destined to be admired.