A rumbling dark horizon, drifting forward in an endless path.
A free form catastrophe, painfully sought and sorrowfully reached.
Passengers and drivers alike, drawn forward uncontrollably.
Spinning into sordid depths, plummeting towards realization.
Velveteen blackness reaches out, before long subsuming the inevitable.
Grasping out for feeling, finding only despondency.
An obscuring haze, obfuscates and smothers all within.
Leaving nothing but a carcass, a fallen conscript of time.
Future life will spring from the fallen, similar albeit different from the predecessor.
Nothing left behind but bones, shards of pith and a single tear.
Just as it started, the cacophony ends.