From the night, treks the flash and the fury

Solitary is the heart—Silence is a stranger in the dark.

And the rains dampen the midnight train. A booming crackle and a resounding quiet, eerie.

Wavering through the storm, rolls the whistling train. Powered by its resolute spark.

Bookish and nostalgic is the world out among the storm and the trees and the field.

Cascading thunder shall salute sleep with a reluctant wave.

So shall the midnight train. Where the spark strengthens, what will it yield?

Only the pen can tell, the storm the restless train will brave.

Photo by Derek Story on Unsplash