“when winter comes,
the wind will blow,
can leaves but choose to fall?”
no more shall we come back to life,
no more shall we remain.
when death prevails the sphere one day,
no more can we sojourn.
when curfew tolls, the train must leave
can travellers save their heed?
to catch the trip, the soul must rush
no bags we’ll ever need
in tunnel we’ll tarry till
the siren has been blown
and this will bring our tour to halt
what next might we be shown?