Poem -

A Cult on The Train

A Cult on The Train

I came aboard the midnight train.
My fears & regrets reminded me of why I was afraid:
A reminder of why I needed to run away from my nostalgic pain.

A seven hour path across the plains
Was enough to forget about that deadly game.
A seven hour path of across the city 
Was enough to live the life of a killer’s fame.

With the subtle thoughts of optimism &
The sheer crucial thoughts of pessimism,
I decided to fall into my unconscious tomb 
In hopes of running away-not too far, 
From the western moon that brighten the sky of the darkest gloom.

A three hour sleep throughout the night 
Was not enough to forget what had happened.
A three hour spree throughout the suburbs 
Was not enough to feed what I had tried to abandon.

At a rapid & sudden abruption,
No faster than the god of locomotion,
A sigh awoke me & awoke my fears to the highest anticipation.

“There’s a cult on the train!” (I turned)

Seven transients had entered the train car.

“Can’t you see that they brought in the rain?” (I heard)

Seven faces were covered in mud, faces especially covered in tar.

So with a cult on the train,
Seeing that they had brought in the rain,
I couldn’t say that there was much to blame
as they only came & went without nothing to gain.

By the time I had realized that the western moon had left me be,
I smelt the flesh of the youths & families along the ocean of the east.
Without looking back I took a long deep breath & allowed the beast to eat... its feast.