The train arrives and blows its whistle prop’r

As it does stand prepared to take our thoughts

To planes beyond  another world, the copp’r

Does make a change to gold, men bought

By greedy hearts and now, without their coins,

The train departs with us inside to meet

The truths against our pain, our lustful loins

And hubris grown to overtake, defeat,

And kill the world silly. Receive my lance

Of sorrow, cloud the days in penance right,

Burning the eyes of sinful men with glances,

Then sending them into this train at night.

Let it be known, I am a sinful man,

For sins were done, because I knew I can.


Original Image

*Note* : If you like my poems, look forward to the upcoming poetry collection I’ve compiled: Flames from the Black! More information is coming soon, so stay tuned!

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