Hiraeth

Please, let me be a forsaken, rusted railway car far from the vanishing lines.

I never wanted to be a pale afternoon on a lonely, dying lake.
Drying leaves, mundane leaves, giving away to mould and chrysalis drenched in faded sunflowers, no, not I.

No, my forests are long icy shadows on blue cliffs. Long dead, long gone, they reek of lapis seas and brown trails. Nothing grows. Nothing moves. Every new death is a sound damned, dampened forever. They die who never should have come here to die. Their deaths are scattered in dark greens and opal violets. They blind me, I lose way and turn and turn around and around and round and round.

Oh, please, let me lie down and sleep. Let me go where the forgotten trains are, those that never go anywhere anymore.