The next station is love forlorn,
Broken hearted from empty promises from the one who made you believe, in Cupid's hunt and Romeo's fight however tragic it may seem.
The next station is love returned,
You celebrate life's purpose and meaning fulfilled, the sun shines on children playing, laughter and song fills the hills and you smile in the certain knowledge that all is as it was meant to be.
The next station is loss,
Dark days loom with shadows cast by the person no longer here, the newly formed ghost cries spirit tears which stain the depths of your haunted eyes; you will never see that face again.
The next station is faith and spirituality,
Jump on and off with the regularity of hobos and with all of their thought and deliberation, flip a coin and choose your path, your plans and intentions are mere butterflies facing the cosmic storm and no 'god' will save you from life's rotten breath.
The next station is you,
A culmination of thoughts, feelings and experiences, some of which you acknowledged, most were spun by your subconscious with the greasy excellence of a politician on campaign.
Some of you love yourself, most do not; you're locked in constant battle with an inner monologue which preaches self-hate and immolation, cast out that voice as you would a demon for its only validation comes from your accepting attention.
The next stop is your freedom,
Awaken; your mind, body and soul are yours to do with as you choose, feed all three with gluttonous abandon and find a path not yet traveled, for your life and it's purpose are not the reflection of anyone who came before or will arrive after, it is yours and yours alone to discover should you brave getting off at this station.