I'm sitting on my train at night
the carriage hallways dimming light
lifts me from the scenes around
we're speeding at 90 and I cannot hear a sound
Gentle flicks of rain lick the window pane
like the solemn lonesome tears of a widows pain
the crying screams from my compartments rattle
the darkness is darker now, this I cannot battle.
Pitching grunts from the ancient coffee machine
leaking through cracks that nobody has seen
praying for solace from this low solitude
I ask God for help as prayer cannot intrude
Sad, sinister and smiley, alliterated with the same letter
no rule of three here can make this hurt better
i stare in eyes of fallacy this night
pathetic, this days greyness, I cannot fight
The touch of his hand I will need at my side
The warmth of his arms and chest where i lied.
cant ask you my question, while my train keeps moving
the thought of your sweet face, cannot seem more soothing
Loving and rhythmic, my stanzas may be
though the spirit of my soul holds the true key
the door to my trains open, theres slowing of wheels
but it still doesn't halter, this poem cannot conceal
"Success is a journey, not a destination"
so I'll keep it quiet when I get to your station
make my train steady, but simultaneously
your face i long to cradle, or we cannot be
I'm wanting the brink of the night to pull through
don't need this sick feeling though contentiously true
my train is slowing now, i can finally say my part
I can give you my love now, I can give you my heart.
