The Last Line Forward

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Life is a rail line stretching far,

Forged beneath a newborn star,

Two shining paths of steel and soul

Carrying us toward an unseen goal.


We board with hearts both brave and worn,

At dawns of loss and days reborn,

Each year a train that waits in time,

Whistling hope at midnight’s chime.


The tracks are paved with days gone by,

With words unsaid and reasons why,

Old mistakes sleep in the ground,

Where memory hums a restless sound.


Yet still the engine pulls ahead,

Fueled by dreams we’ve barely said,

By faith that burns when lights are low,

By love we’re still learning how to show.


At year’s end, standing side by side,

We reach a station, doors thrown wide-

Another name, another year,

A place to leave our weight and fear.


We set our doubts on the platform floor,

Pack new courage and ask for more,

Not gold or fame or flawless days,

But strength to walk life’s shifting ways.


The past rolls off with fading steam,

Its echoes soft, like half-known dreams,

Ahead, the rails begin to thin,

Where time grows quiet, deep, and thin.


For every line must someday end,

Where journeys cease and souls transcend,

The final age, the closing gate,

Where clocks lay down their hands of fate.


Yet if the end should meet our eyes,

Let it find us awake, not wise,

Still loving, hoping, choosing light,

Riding the dark toward endless bright.


Though rails may stop and wheels grow still,

The path we walked has meaning still-

For life was never just the ride,

But who we were along the side.


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