My train only likes to travel on the dark track of idleness.
The passengers were never sure of their destination.
They drink and merry to the wine of good times and lay filling their cups with tears of guilt.
Also read | Baking Poetry
My train only likes to travel on the track of a hopeless destination.
The passengers are stubborn in their orientation.
They held on to the energy they invested in taking their journey and filled themselves with forgiving atoms.
Also read | OCTOBER
My train needs a rest but the track seems long… is long, the stations are bitter.
My train needed the affection it gives. The passengers are sweetly harsh.
They bruised it and paint it with fairy tale brushes.
Also read | Lucid Dreamer
Ah! I prayed for my train to crash.
The passengers were merciless.
The track had to allow the damage.
Disastrous it maybe, just for a while;
My train has to have a destination!
I am tired_driving without a destination.
Also read | A reflection on the works of Nicholas Roerich
Yet, I cannot stop at the wrong station.
So, I drive my train believing in the tickets of experience.
Joyce Paveine is a research scholar in the Department of English and Cultural Studies, Manipur University. She loves flaneuring and writing.
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