In the last days of humanity
the sky is filled with flames and choked with smoke
the sun has not been seen for a long time
on this barren inhospitable landscape
A single locomotive puffs along the track
christened Esperanza by the men who died building it
it was meant to be a symbol of hope
in a broken and dying world
The front is a huge iron skull
that seems to grin with delight at the desolation it sees
the eyes glow red as the blood that has been spilt
both in the wars and in its construction
The engine belches huge clouds of foul fumes
in to an already toxic atmosphere
as it pulls its armoured carriages
all of them carrying the apparently important
or at least those rich enough to be considered
The rest have mostly died or are hiding
in vaults deep under ground
doomed to spend their rest of their days in these bunkers far below the surface
never to come out again
There is a small hope for the future
as long as the train keeps running
the world can never be healed as it was
before the last days of humanity
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem