Night Train
He's riding a train, in the rain,
His dissatisfaction is bringing him pain,
Almost driving him completely insane
As he watches the rain spatter the pane.
He's staring at lights braking infinite plains
Of darkness, his conscience a stain.
Watching over his life, without any gain.
No happiness, as his smile is a feign.
His conscience being his existential bane,
(enough is enough)
(he said over again)
And he can do nothing but stare at the rain,
Watching god play his cruel games,
For when the sky come falling, crushing the fame,
And power is nothing but only a name,
And kings have all but given up on their reign,
And when beauty can finally be explained,
Et bleu sacrée coule du vien,
(And sacred blue is dripping from the vien)
And Saints and Monsters are finally slain,
And we've wasted our last plot of grain,
And the creatures of night have shaken their mane
And he can do nothing but stare at the same,
At the rain pitter-pattering on the train,
And the rain, the falling rain.
So when he got up the way he came,
And found the poem he so gladly tamed,
Only three lines, yet they captured his maims.
(enough is enough)
(he said over again)
And the rain pitter-pattered on the roof of the train,
And the rain, the falling rain.
And so his life changed.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
