Trying To Stay On Track Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

We fight against the end like a derailed train.
Leaping off the track constantly, trying to jump back.
Wheels squealing, backward spinning
Jettisoned ever forward, trying to stay on track.
Every second brings on a near heart attack.
Puffing like a prize fighter against the ropes,
One has to cling tight for dear life.
Till that moment of death,
Until that final bell that has you completely exposed.
Till you find hope in the midst of hell and eternal damnation.
One has to channel a tunnel through the pitch-black night.
And find a guiding light that's never extinguished.
And reaches its depot station, whatever the situation.
One has to have faith that nothing derails 'spirit and soul'.
Blessed is the near-empty carriage that finds a way back home.