Nocturne of the Unseen Rail

At twilight's hush, when stars begin to gleam,

A phantom whistle tears the fading dream.

The platform sighs, a forgotten, dusty stage,

For weary souls turning a final page.

Of rusted iron, steam like ancient breath,

It waits, a promise whispered by sweet death.

No tickets bought, no journey to define,

Just shadowed windows, a silent, stark design.

Who boards this car, this carriage of the lost?

Perhaps a memory, at what forgotten cost.

A silent hope, a sorrow left behind,

Or just the echo of a searching mind.

Through landscapes bled of color, soft and gray,

It glides where logic dares not find its way.

Past spectral forests, rivers turned to mist,

By silent stars, eternally unkissed.

No final station, no familiar town,

Just dissolution, as the world spins down.

Into the quiet, where all journeys cease,

A gentle fading, into endless peace.