The Lonely Night

Through the lonely night the train rushes on,
Ceaseless in its haste,
Stopping for nothing, fearing for times of waste.
Darkness blindfolds time's ever-rushing passenger
Pushing it on to the edge of doom.
Cloaks as dark as the hour of midnight
Cover the train as it rushes on through the lonely night.
Suddenly a tiny ray of light awakens the sleeping giant,
A small ray of hope
Bewildering it, only to be plunged into the depths of blackness.
Sleepy stations fly by, human figures fixed by the harsh light
Of the few bulbs strung carelessly
As if daring to defy the dark.
The stark background engulfs it
And before long it is gone, gone forever into the realms of reality.
The train plunges on into the nightmare of dreams.
The stars above look down upon it.
Cold and distant, they know what it is to rush
They know what it is to be alone.
But the moon is not there
Perhaps it is too large, too garishly bright.
Perhaps it is just the new moon.
But the night knows no reason, no logic, no reality
The train moves on, trying forever to escape
The clutch of a hand as cold as death.
It races with time, wins over it.
Only to be defeated.
Only to be plunged into the pall of despair.
Only to be left rushing through the long, cold, lonely night.