Ferdinand L Quintos
Ferdinand L Quintos Poems
Train Ride To Nowhere
The train rolls out slowly
from the old terminal bay,
rusty wheels reluctantly
roll on rails all rickety,
just like my mind grudgingly
decided to go away.
The train picks up speed,
forcefully pushes ahead,
outside the scenes turn blurry,
things and all become fuzzy,
just like the uncertainty
of all this inane journey.
The train now, as if a scythe,
cuts through the countryside
like the sharp pangs of sadness
cut through the dark recesses,
and reopens all the hurt,
deep in my tormented heart.
The train at last slows ...
As I lay lonesome one night in my bed,
Somnus on my wearied eyes descended,
but when my eyelids were about to meet
toward slumber expectedly sweet,
loomed before me your so beautiful sight,
your fullness gleaming under the soft light,
your fingers moved as if they’re magic wands
as you sweetly bade me to take your hands.