Shrine.

You build your shrine to Time,
broken memories better left behind -
sacrificed for the future,
and cast aside.

Where once there laid a flame
there now lies embers.
And where once you said a name
your lips now stay sealed.
You used to speak in forevers
but Time you cannot tame.
It's no commodity to be dealt
nor is it swayed by wealth and fame.
For all that our riches can afford
Time will best us all the same.

So you build your shine to Time,
every paintstroke is a memory left behind -
sacrificed for the future,
and cast aside.

Tracks.

Stretching on for an eternity before me,
the road was pitch black beneath the growing clouds.
Once distant howling now grew closer every second
whilst the cold paralysed, and the touch of Winter dulled all sense.
The rails start to shake, as my whole body seems to tense.
The barriers are lowered, the heavens open up.
Thunder and rain strike from forgotten clouds so dark and dense.
The train passes for only a second
and then the rain relents.