Between the easy virtue of the night; virgin morn
We board the train. It thunders ever further on
Melancholy metallic chants; it’s voice. Rhythmic song
Our fragile dreams mere freight; to carry with no particular regard.
And passes stamped; tracks irrevocably laid
Await the jolt; the ticket collector’s awakening call
We will the thundering beast to slow; or lose it’s way
For perhaps this will be the night; the journey ends
Far further along this unforgiving track; or not quite there
Just not where they think we ought to be.