Time was running out, and the people knew it.
The ethereal dome was not visible anymore.
The Trip is not so Long:
In a deserted dirty station.
A passenger is in wait.
He has a ticket for the last train.
The trip is not so long.
A dance on the edge of a bridge that was left
uncompleted.
An old brown hat upon his head fails to block the liar
sun.
His cloth is the yellow dust, he looks so tired.
The trip is not so long.
A dance on the edge of a bridge that was left
uncompleted.
His life, his memories will be left back.
Nothing to carry on this journey.
There are no luggages aside him.
The train has arrived as a shadow at night
And its whistle is giving the signal.
