The Train, its Wailing
I hear the wailing, the train
approaches from far away
honeyed dreams
tormented
carrying me instead to
serpentine, scabrous tracks
Deep in the night, the wailing
vanishes
only the song of the river who speaks
with her seething lashes
like blows that fall upon the soul
come to whisper, relating plunges foretold
Like the very cries of Time
I hear the echoes, the breaths
of my affliction
I search for a path to take flight
to cast off these fetters,
tying me to the void.
Where might I find a love
to hold me fast?
