The Passerby Station

The Passerby Station

A Poem by TaraTestament
"

Forgive me, if it is a little T.S. Eliot, with a hint of Hemmingway

"

The Passerby Station

 

When the trolley comes to town, the right place is here,

underneath the street.

Take your hand, and touch the vibrations.

As the masses of people drive away.

Naturally we fear what we cannot explain.

Naturally, I fear when your hand does not extend for the forgotten.

Out of the ashes . . .

Fire, power, and beauty.

Destroy. Destroy.

The tower of treachery will fall tonight.

I stand with legs tall, guns drawn,

At you who chose to defend.

You, who praise nothing.

Love nothing. Curse meaning.

Eyes set to still.

The come like statues and carbon copies.

They leave like statues and crubled rubble.

I leave with my fingers wide open.

The wind kissing my face.

The road . . . full of fire . . . and light.

And it takes me away.

© 2008 TaraTestament


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Added on April 5, 2008

Author

TaraTestament
TaraTestament

The Valley of the Ashes, OH



About
I'm just a girl, with an arrogance the size of Texas, and a confidence the size of Rhode Island. I'm a high school student, with big dreams. I'm almost never satisfied with anything, grass is greener .. more..

Writing