Rails the Sign of Chaos

It shines like shattered glass
on the side of a mountain unseen
just beyond the rail
that guards us from chaos.

It is posted pure
like a profitical magazine
that adheres to the stream
of the consciousness keeping
the ikon clean
with products smelling nice
and soap white knuckled
to sheol shroud
hope forgotten scene.

There used to be cobblestone-now
we are horseless breathe-in
the tire dust it will get you home-quickly.