Whispers of the Departed Rails

Beneath a sky of crimson hue,

The old tracks lay in twilight's view,

A whistle’s cry, a mournful tone,

The train that never came back home.

It left one day at morning's light,

With dreams and hopes and futures bright,

Through valleys deep and mountains tall,

It ventured forth to heed the call.

The passengers with hearts so bold,

Their stories waiting to unfold,

Yet fate's own hand would intervene,

In ways unseen, in shadows keen.

The clock hands turned, the days went by,

The town would watch the empty sky,

No whistle blew, no engine roared,

No footsteps crossed the silent board.

The station's heart began to ache,

With every dawn, with every break,

A tale of loss in whispers grew,

Of love and dreams that never knew.

Yet some believed in whispered winds,

In twilight's dance where dusk begins,

They saw the train in phantom light,

A ghostly gleam in dead of night.

It roams the lands of in-between,

In realms where time is never seen,

A spectral ride through endless track,

The train that never journeyed back.

And so it fades into the lore,

A legend on the shadowed shore,

Of hearts that beat in endless roam,

The train that never came back home.