Late at night, when the world has quieted down and the hum of the tracks becomes a lullaby for the soul, the last train home offers more than just a ride; it provides a passage into memory and comfort. The journey on this solitary carriage is steeped in reflection and nostalgia, as familiar sights and soft city lights remind us of where we come from.

The Last Train Home

In the quiet of midnight, the train pulls away,
A soft exhale of metal and dreams in the grey.
Window reflections flicker like memories in flight,
Familiar scenes whispering in the pale moonlight.

The carriage hums a tune of distant, gentle farewells,
Carrying echoes of laughter, of secret, cherished spells.
Every station a chapter, every stop a familiar name,
In the silent journey home, nothing ever feels the same.

Nostalgia drifts like smoke in the air,
Of old roads travelled, of moments rare.
The rhythmic clatter of wheels on the track
Calls forth a tender longing for what we may not get back.

Yet, in this fleeting ride through the night,
There lies a quiet comfort, a soft, guiding light.
For in the last train’s journey, beneath starlit skies,
We rediscover the places where our true heart lies.

The dark outside cradles our reflective mind,
In the gentle sway of the train, solace we find.
A final embrace before the dawn’s gentle roam—
This journey, so transient, leads us always home.