Let the Train Whistle Cry for You

I am the lonely train's horn blowing in the not too distant future.  I lumber past but catch the eye of those involved.  Large, untimely, and without remorse.  I pass in the night with little notice and yet touching those open to hear the mournful cry.  Always headed somewhere and nowhere all at once.  no stopping.  never resting.  My brain knows not what the body does and yet it all connects in a mass of metal and screaming joints.  The thick metal carcass travels abroad knowing fully it's all the same.  They'll all be the same.  Predictable.  The troubled wind blows against my immensity.  I strive against time itself.  Searching, longing...meager.  Mediocrity seems welcome relief after the travels I've seen.  Something still amiss, I will trudge through the broken tracks and fallen timber.  A heartbeat pulses in time with my increasing movement and I pass through yet another town of faces I've seen all too often before.  They are mere remnants of myself;  Facets of my own personality.  Together, each a car of it's own yet all secured to the other.  We'll come back someday, if we do not lose our way.  Let the train whistle cry for you.  Let it bring you back to where you belong...joined to the rest with iron and solder.  We will remain unbreakable, unleashed and attached until time itself tears us from the other with rust and stoic grace.