Rambling again

I sit alone on a platform
Waiting for the train to hell

I see its smoke in the distance
slowly weaving a chill around my soul
as it snakes along the tracks

I hold a ticket in my hand
A piece of paper on which a fate is written
It pulses in time with my blood

We are linked
The train
The ticket
I

I hear the chug chug inching ever closer
I feel the ground beneath me move
The train is On time.....In time with my life

I smell the steam it spews as it pulls close
I hear it scream as metal grinds against metal
I feel the air shift against my skin

I look at the ticket in my hand
At the fate written on my soul
My blood no longer beats its rythym

I am carried forward
And let the ticket slip from my grasp
I am not a passenger now

I am the driver

Dark and poignant. A powerful poem.

Thanks matey