Fright Train Pilots in Indian Lock-down

No one there ! 
Desolate rail yards are seen everywhere!
Ever busy coaching locos or EMUs 
Standing dead still 
Under the black canopies of the yards.
The lifeless lives were 
Lying motionless in the graveyards.
We did it. We have to do it!
Like angels, we, the Fright Loco Pilots 
Float on the rails. 
We run forever; 
We circuit the lifeline 
Of the land of our forefathers.

No one there!
No village vendors walking 
Along the side of the track 
In the wee-hours of the morning.
No office goers 
At the peak hours of a busy day.
No pupil anywhere 
Hanging long bags on their shoulders 
Along their school way.
No sight of any babies jumping 
On their mothers on either of the sides 
When the big sun inclines.
No scene of blossoming lovers 
Smiling at each other.
No Gangman, no Trackman, 
No signal exchange from offsides.

No one there!
But the Loco Pilots run through graveyards! 
Nothing can stop the running staff.
Isolation everywhere!
Only we bind the country one point to another.
The world is on hold.
The country is on hold.
The time & the Loco Pilots pass by.