Creative Writing

The Last Train

I arrived at the station earlier than most 
the sun a ball of warmth, the day filled with hope
I watched with wonder the many trains
arriving and departing
The time runs and runs all the while evolving
When will my steamed chariot come to whisk me away?
Eagerly waiting for the right one, not wanting to go astray
A last, there it is after what seemed like eternity 
the last train in the station as I chose it with utmost certainty

- Zehra Salahuddin