Idle ghosts
Cast aside my longing
The train is heard
One minute to arrival
Its noisy voice
Rattles on rails
The countdown begins
My trembling voice trails.
To an emotional whisper
A final goodbye
Weeping eyes
That did not cry
A lump in throat
A silent scream
I knew of this moment
But still unreal.
I lift your luggage
That now seems free
Of everything
That was you and me
A final look
A withered hope
The train door closes
In a surreal cloak.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: October 11th, 2025 03:18
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
Comments1
This poem to me seems a metaphor of loss. Sad it is in some way haunting and dark. Well written
kind comments, appreciated and thanks
You are most welcome
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