Temptation and the Train Ride

train

 

Temptation is a coiled whip
that loves to strike and snap,
the minute you attempt to run from desire
and turn your back.

I see you coming, winding down my heart-
a beautiful black locomotive on a railway track.
I hear your whistle blowing, but my desire’s got me tied.
Trapped in your lies. Wedged in your ties.

I don’t need a ticket, boarding pass, or documentation.
You say my ride with you’s free if I want to come along-
“the last real thing in our world without a cost,” you tell me.
And I believe you.

I climb aboard and am dazzled by the glamour-
every box car’s filled with the finest comforts money can buy.
There’s guests of every nation, every gender, every race
wearing smiles and having the time of their lives.

I take my seat by the window, determined to have a splendid view.
But the farther and farther away from home I get
I begin to wonder…
just where are we going?

“Excuse me sir,” I ask one of the waiters.
“Where are we headed?”
He dodges my question, appears not to have heard,
yet has no problem offering me wine and dessert.

“No wine or dessert for me,” I say.
“I just want to know where we’re going.”
He just smiles at me, “Oh, you’ll see.” His reply leaves me
a little nervous, as if there was a secret behind that grin.

I reexamine the other passengers,
hoping they may hold answers to my questions.
But they seem so distracted by their desires-
they seem to have little care for our destination.

It’s then I see the horror,
shackles attached to their feet.
Each and every customer’s a prisoner,
believing they’re on a fine retreat.

“I want off! I want off!” I cry.
“I’m sorry. There’s no stops along our trip.”
I get up to protest, but find it hard to walk-
I notice the extra weight of chains on my feet.

I make for the door, but soon get tired.
With each step the comforts of desire
become more and more appealing, draining my hope for freedom
and questioning why I would ever want to leave.

So I join the crowed.
And sit back down.
Not caring where it is we’re going,
only thinking, “what a lovely time I’m having here”.

Temptation is a coiled whip
that loves to strike and snap,
the minute you attempt to run from desire
and turn your back.


If you enjoy my poetry, I’d appreciate follows and comments.  Thanks! 

Photo Credit: kevin dooley via Compfight cc

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