The Ghost Train

A true story

On top a mountain a legend was born

Of a train whose whistle still blows

Though there's not been tracks for a hundred years

This train somehow still goes

They call it the ghost train, its final run

For it crashed on that mountain they say

While carrying lumber to the valley below

And many were killed that day

Its whistle still heard night after night

As the wind still beckons her cries

Voices still heard in the darkness so clear

And screams of everyone who dies

Twenty-one souls were lost that day

As they plunged to their certain demise

The faint smell of blood in clouds of smoke 

Still fill the mountain skies

A sign was erected to remember the lost

Their names were written in white

They wander the mountain trying to get home 

Destined to relive that night

Some say that it's only a legend

But I know the story is true

I close my eyes when the moon is full

And I hear that train whistle too

Reviews

[Baby Ricochet]

Cool. Great job