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.
*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!