THE TRAIN AT THE END OF THE WORLD.

THE TRAIN AT THE END OF THE WORLD.

The train goes to the end of time.

It sits there and it waits.

I find myself standing on the end of oblivion,

the time it takes for control to manifest.

I am self-absorbed in the realm of darkness.

Time forces us to a standstill.

The broken clock marches forward,

and gleams of promise; hope fades

to fear.

Light is like a folding flower,

it goes around and around.

The wheels of the train are spinning.

I am a colored wheel. I light my own way

in the dark.

The train goes through thick, gooey mud.

I am concerned with what will happen

the next day; the next and the next until

time breaks down and rots away.

The river is wide. The train breaks down

in the water. Rust rots away. I am broken,

like a clock, that falls in the water

and time does not end.