Deep down below, the trains run fast
Passengers moved at intervals
Irregular intervals
In singles, double or multitudes
They take their turns and pick their times
Times that are impromptu
Unknown to no passengers
Neither of the destinations
Times allows no preparation
Departure is certain
Arrival is impossible
One way route
The station is ever busy
Yet there are no passengers in line
The soul farers on eternal celestial journeys
They left their bodies behind
For a journey of no return
Who could be next?
OLANIYI G. AKANJI
© 2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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