Onward Poem by Mariam de Haan

The whistle blows.
The steam hisses upwards.
Two jolts forward
And smoothly we move onward.

The horizon walks beside us.
The endless green fields with whirls of livestock.
At times interrupted by towers and houses
Where you can see silhouettes sulking.
Or by graffiti plastered walls,
Where the wind has scribbled its memoirs
Names and cartoons in a spectrum of colours.

The dozens of wheels glide on
Like bees flying fearlessly.
Hear the tik tak of the track
The screech of the brake
The murmur of conversation,
And yet eavesdropping is a sin.
The repetitive ringtones
The drums of a band I know not
As they escape from headphones, resonating.
And the polite, sultry silence,
As if talking is a thing of the past
Or simply not done.

As the tunnel approaches
Ear-piercing darkness engulfs us.
We are surrounded by howls,
Voices of the wolves from an unseen world.
Demons bellowing as they enter
Souls screaming surrender.
But onwards we go
Onwards into forever.