Thunder on the rails, the evil train storms by,
Black as the soul of satan, steam painting the dark night sky,
Wheels singing the song of ringing steel, air tainted by fire’s breath,
Forging, forcing, driven on, drawn by the scent of death –
Over the mountains, over the seas, climbing to great height,
Pummelling clouds, spreading fear, a fierce and fiery sight,
Collecting the souls of evil ones as they slip from their last great sleep,
Thrashing limbs and writhing tongues, oh, listen to them weep! –
And the train speeds on and the darkness grows and screams rent the foetid air,
Pain and grief and tortured eyes describing their black despair,
For evil’s come for evil and there is no place to hide,
The tunnel of black looms up ahead for the evil ones who’ve died,
And the train in its grim death journey takes souls to the gates of hell,
And the blast from its echoing whistle is matched by its clanging bell,
And the terror of the damned leaves a trail of fog behind,
Curdling, ebbing, flowing, like the gasps of an evil mind,
And the resonant call of that whistle mocks their pitiful fear,
The darkness draws around them, the tunnel is too near,
And the pounding pistons sing with glee, a thunderous choir of the cursed,
And the gates of hell are opening, and the damned can see the worst …
Sept. 2011