Derailed

[busker]

Please step away from the door
this train is about to depart
if you have no destination in mind
there is no end to this line

the world outside my window
blurred with a thickening frost
standing waves of moving places
imposed and distorted my thought

Please move your bags aside
the doors cannot close
don't contemplate those needful things
and surrender to all your woes

I saw distant conviction
A dilapidated structure
chemically stained with human regret
resonating as it ruptured

Please remain seated
I think the conductor is lost
he was reaching for a map
and pressed the emergency stop

born and bred a thundering steed
I was forged with fire
I ride alone down these tracks
leaving behind what you desire.

I like the slant rhymes used throughout the poem.
I think the logic gets a bit hard to follow in the end (how can a steed be forged with fire, wouldn’t it become French luncheon meat instead?)
This poem has truly stood the rest of time