Thursday, September 18, 2014

Haunted, Murder Rails

Gather around
My friends.
Sit near this warm blaze.
The moon shows it's face
Waiting to listen
To it's past
A forrest full of screams
Full of secrets 
Hidden deep beneath
The tree roots.
Close your eyes. 
Feel the ground
Vibrate and shake. 
It's not a quake. 
Hear the horn
Roaring and echoing 
Like a ghost.
200 hundred years
Earlier a town just begun
An old west with guns abound
A railroad had opened
It's grand rails smooth and silver
Carved wood in-between
Train 93 about to set rail
Steam rolls like clouds on an early morning 
The conductor shines the beauty 
Yelling all a borad.
Kids laugh and play 
As the day begins.
Mothers and fathers 
Smile as the long miles; 
A railroad from Aspen to New York. 
The steam howls 
Wheels start to roar
Good byes waved by white.
Pulling strong through the land
Trees and meadows 
Moving slowly by. 
Laughs and joyous smiles 
All round.
Slowly the skies turn black as night.
Passengers didn't mind the sight.
Rain pounds like rocks 
Drums of the am sky flash their symbols.
Growing harder and harder.
A river on their right comes in tight, 
With the train.
The river roars and crashes madly against the rocks. 
With out a trace or a smack,
The train derails
From it's tracks
Toppling into the river
Screams and cries
Blast and bounce off  the canyon walls
With a violent wave
Passengers fly into the rocks 
Blood spills from bodies
Mangled and beaten
Others pinned and drowned.
Here tonight 
Listen closely you can still hear
The chugs and tugs of the train.
 the kids laughing
the rails screech
The screams echo and play
Every night 
This gorge
Open your eyes hear and see the hour
Of train 93
Coming across the tracks

That was no accident.
Murder replays in these hallow canyons

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