A travel case, a passing word -
My footsteps bold, yet fearful still.
I am leaving.
“Watch your step, Sir” I am told.
My heart is pounding, dead and cold;
And I am leaving.
The bleak gray sky envelopes
all the world today.
The broken sound of raindrops
hollows my deepest thoughts today.
The whistle blows. Am I late?
No – Thank Heaven.
And what a foolish thought
When all my life has led to this,
When all I own is in this moment -
This vicious moment.
I am leaving.
A little girl runs down the platform
into her father’s arms.
I muster a weak smile,
but know my own way.
No child, even so precious,
could embrace a fiend.
No God, even so gracious,
would prohibit this deed.
Again the whistle blows.
Closer now the time
to when the world is one man less,
and a thousand ways better.
Strange, though, how as a child
I always longed to travel.
But now, in seizing the chance,
It is surely lost.
For I am leaving.
And yet how far do I go?
I shudder at the thought,
And I don’t want to know.
Oh God, now I see it coming,
With its bright light piercing
through the night air.
Mist and smoke surround it
As it heads so steadily toward me.
My bowels ache whilst I hear
the screeching of metal on iron tracks,
And Dante’s demons claim me for my acts
To which I here stand responsible full.
“Now watch your step, Sir” again I am told.
Painfully, now, I let the irony unfold.
I tip my hat,
I take one step,
And all is gone.
