The Last Train Ride
By Gabrielle Blair
Jaw tight, feral fear grips gut like hunted beast,
He steps into the early light.
With calm resolve, his ticket clamped in sweaty palm,
He lets the work-bound crowd direct his path,
His destination quite clear.
The minutes drag, the platform is a blur.
Not long and there’s the dragon’s roar,
The sucked in air, the distant squeal of metal wheels
Approaching from the tunnel’s womb.
His mind goes dark.
Dreamlike, with leaden feet and shallow breath,
He steps into the void, oblivious of the shriek of brakes
And gasping crowd. He’s reached his journey’s end.
Eyes unseeing, expectant of that far-off light
To guide him from the tunnel to eternal peace,
He feels instead the cold, hard steel against his broken frame.
He is alive! It’s not to be his last train ride.
- December 2024 – Issue - November 30, 2024
- December 2024 – Articles - November 30, 2024
- December 2024 - November 30, 2024
