Trains rolling down the track, clacking through towns
along the way, whistle blowing lonesomely, traveling
deserted deserts, plains, mountains, not seeing anyone
for miles and miles.
Train whistles blowing eerily throughout the night,
wishing for some company to end the lonely times as
they travel across the earth.
Hearing the mundane and lethal rhythms of sleep that
come from it's methodical rhythms, putting life to
sleep and continuing on unendingly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Train is rolling down on track and time too passing down.Life is rolling down with journey of time and body mind and spirit. Very wise and interesting sharing....10