Mr. Denton, a pilot of old, Lived alone in a cabin bold, Tinkering with his plane, Dreaming to fly again.
Doomsday came, the world in shock, Buildings crumbled, fires did mock, But Mr. Denton had a plan, His plane was his only chance.
Fueled and ready, engines roar, Mr. Denton took to the air once more, Leaving destruction below, A sense of hope began to grow.
Through storms and skies clear and bright, He flew for days, day and night, A small island, green and lush, Mr. Denton knew, this was his hush.
He landed on a sandy shore, His new home, forevermore, Living off the land, and fly, Hope for the future, did not die.
