Rumbling train

The rain rumbling, in the silence of the night,
Holding within its chambers, passengers on a ride
Passengers it had picked up, over its journey,
These bits and pieces, of its little story

The train rumbling, from dusk to dawn,
Holding aboard many passengers, but never for long
Passengers it had picked up, over its journey,
Who will alight when they must, without feeling sorry

To the passengers then, the train is but a vehicle,
They board it on their journey, often with a whistling lyrical
But sentiment does not go past, gratefulness for convenience,
The soon to be forgotten, in memory’s dismissive lenience

The train rumbling, on and on
Which will ultimately stop, its passengers all gone
Thus the end of its journey, the final stop
Passengers are but sojourners, names soon to be forgot