Lonely Land

Lonely train through a quiet place
Take your time, no need to race!
Wind whispering through the reeds
Bending to its silent needs

Along the fields made of dust
Past the towns becoming rust
Platforms devoid of people now
Nobody around to tell you how

The trains came to take them away
Children left to elsewhere play
To cities tall and full of light
Never knowing the stars at night
Nor hearing peace amongst the noise
So busy playing with their toys

Yet here I am in their wake
The slow path I choose to take
Wandering this decaying land
I hear myself and understand.

(Originally published at travelling allrite)

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