Solitude is nurture

 I stumbled upon the yellow trainstation of purgatory.
My Grandfather and father took a train from here.
Severing an entire leg
Severing a sanity

It must be two centuries since they painted these panels
Seems fresh to me
Somewhere corner of my eye a fox
No a ghost, no the breeze

And no train to come for another decade of these years
The solitude seems like nurture
This lonliness seems to sustain the hungry nothings that make up me
The millenia behind the veil and where are all the other souls?

I guess they all paired up and danced their way to heaven
All I have is this old yellow train station
My grandfather's appartion pops by to roll himself a cigarette
To eat a sweet and state the obvious

There's no hope for me but take a drag and chew the sugar
I check my pack and everything i need is lacking
I'd stick it out on these rusty tracks
In the fake sun

Out of the corner of my eye a wolf
No a ghost of myself, looking back blaming
This solitude seems like nurture
The minds stirrs inside my head as if it were a...
separate creature

Even in the dullness of purgatory where they built me up new
What has remained are these traumas and this burning sensation
That the lesser known truth of purgatory
eternity passes much slower here