Alone

The props reflect the sunlight as they’re carving through the sky, To the muffled sound of turbines swiftly spinning, My eyes stare blankly outward at the white tipped mountain heights, At the end you tend to dwell on the beginning, The nervousness when we first met; the fairy tale that followed, A relationship that blossomed into magic, Just trying to do my duty in a far off distant land, As the love story turns into something tragic, Another long deployment marks another girl’s good-bye, As the time and distance sabotage our love, For the mountains of Afghanistan I’ll pass as with my life, As I’m flying twenty-thousand feet above, I’m very good at what I do; my career marked with success, As my life charts out the places where I’ve flown, But the private side of thirty years, though tried I have at love, There’s a chance that I’m just meant to be alone.