Trying To Stay On Track Poem by Mark Heathcote

We fight against the end. Like a train derailed
leaping off the track, constantly trying to jump back.
Wheels squealing, backward spinning
jettison 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,
till that final bell has you exposed.
Till you find hope amid hell and eternal damnation.
One has to channel a tunnel through the pitch-black night.
Find a guiding light that's never extinguished
that reaches its depot station, whatever the situation.
One has to have faith that nothing derails 'spirit and soul.'
Blessed, a near-empty carriage finds a way back home.