Collections, Under Construction.
I am working on an ambitious collection of poetry reflecting life as seen through the eyes of a middle-class American male. But with a unique concept, that I’ll wait to unveil with the publication.
Check back soon for information and links to the Kindle Store where this will be published in eBook and paperback formats.
Below is a poem I wrote last night, August 10, 2017. It will be included in a short collection of Spiritually-themed poems to be published this year.
By Felix R. Corson
There is a train that leaves the station,
But never travels back.
It’s not a trip across far lands;
It never jumps the track.
The passengers are oh so weary;
Their luggage is their life.
And yet the final destination
Will not reduce their strife.
An unexpected interruption
Has put them on this train…
Their minds are conscious of the journey
But soon so dead…their brain.
All their clever theories
of the meaning of their lives,
Are empty, and so useless now,
and so are all goodbyes.
You see, the destination’s not at all
what they surmised,
And no one standing on the platform,
can see their great surprise.
The whistle blows, the train is slowing;
There is no going back.
The riders looking out the windows,
Do wish it’d jumped the track!
A lifetime of excuses,
And denying all their guilt,
Comes flooding, flooding
In their brains, before it dies, and wilts.
They see the fiery furnace,
And the gates like burning glass;
Alas, there is no penance now,
The time for Life is past.
The engine stops, the trip is done,
Eternal death awaits.
The passengers are hurled inside
The smoking, sulfur gates.
“Oh, would you send them Lazarus,
To warn my brothers dear?
For searing heat and choking stone
Is all their fate, I fear.”
This Train is full, to overflowing,
Yet repentance stops its flight.
Let not your pride, put you inside,
But board the Train of Light!