Its a long wait , we sit , converse , create bonds but yet we all board
The line is endless yet its length is hidden
By mists of happiness and facades of forever and always

       We forgot about our tickets and unaware of our departure time , we envelope ourselves in the hysteria of the station

    A seemingly endless vast space yet we know not of the distances covered by the train

The winding path built with the metal of dreams lost , forgotten, thrown away  and hammered with the harsh tears of the passengers
Some of joy, of ignorant bliss, yet still they fall on the alloy of wishes    

     But still the eternal ticket collector , a man of few words and frequent appearances, unceremoniously forces you in
And the metal door shuts

   The train speeds off as the boarders cling on to their seats and the conductor shares his signature grin as his skeletal hands grips  the wheel

   And his oddly shaped  cane with a sharp curved metal end rests across his legs neatly on his ironed black cloak