The tracks of dead trains from time long ago,
Carries only weeds, wrapping the rails slow.
A bridge of wood, the tracks they stretch,
The endless wanderer holds his breath.
Below the stream, of the waters deep.
The river gives you dreams in sleep.
Floating Are lofting feathered gulls,
They sit in silence, they swim in gentle love.
Each step upon the bridge is fate,
Crossing Into heavens gate.
Until you reach the very end.
The bridge your only real friend.
Don't look back once you've crossed.
The bridge will stand at every cost.
And carry those who need to be,
Across the river near the sea.
To find their love in eternity.
-
Author:
RSM (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 21st, 2026 12:26
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship
Offline)
Comments1
Well written. Your poem explores themes of transition, journey, and the interplay between life and death. It metaphorically uses a bridge to symbolize the passage from one state of existence to another, suggesting that love and eternal connection persist beyond physical separation.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.