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Poetic T Jul 2015
It ran between both realms each was a track
One of darkness, One of light.
Every soul waited on the verge,
A precipice of the fallen waited
Purgatory was for those unable to wait
Descending
Plunging
Ebbing
In to the ether, as if drowning in nothing
Then gone. They still waited as the train  
Pulled in, First class was the light, pristine
Setting classical music reverberated
With delicate tones.
Second class, dilapidated seats standing
Were most as so many to fit in.
Some rode on top, not knowing the dangers as
Reapers like crows flew above, food
For the cloak, all were game as they
picked bone teeth.
The Soul train was never on time,

"Tickets please,

The conductor bellowed out,
That feather given at last heartbeat,
But some lost in that terminal moment.
Out in to the wilds where all manner of
Super naturals waited.
Hell hounds ripping souls like tissue paper
No longer at peace, but pieces ingested a worst fate,
Feral angels, thoughts of help, absorbing there souls
More consumed the more insane they fell.

"Last stop, seats please,

Was spoken out, as each carriage dethatched,
First class was engulfed in an ether of light, gently
Stopping caressed by clouds of white.
Second class was jolted as engulfed by brimstone
Flame, screams were swallowed as the carriage
Exploded and all souls were caged in eternal flame.
The soul train will ride again, which carriage
Will you ride, depends on the toils of your life.

— The End —