The train tracks hum a quiet song,
as we stand in the dim light,
words hanging like the mist,
between breaths, the fan creaks.

Your eyes trace the horizon,
searching for the first sign of dawn.
A pause… the world holds its breath,
as if waiting for something unsaid.

The train arrives, a steel whisper,
our hands part, a silent farewell.
Time moves, like the tracks below,
we become echoes in its flow.