The Passengers

The messengers of peace from heaven They came to the mother earth in flying saucers The lights were dim and hided the saucers In fear of man who is clever to find them Slowly walked through the woods to towns To look of the world and happiness of people They traveled to islands in sea planes That made in their own domain of other world And expected a beautiful island for experience To live in peace for the time being Unfortunate, no such islands were vacant Or fit enough for a safe residence to them They tried their best in mountain ranges In between the mountains and rocks Where barren land and nearby rivers liked Unfortunate the places were already have dwelling houses The good world is decorated than the heaven And perfect place with peaceful living yet to trace They exclaimed the human skills of creativity But critical of their own unreliability.