Leading to Wonders

The train speeds on, a time machine,
A journey through history, yet to be seen.
The leading line, a guiding force,
Through tunnels and tracks, a steady course.

The empty escalator stretches out ahead,
A symbol of change, of times that have fled.
The leading line, a path to the unknown,
Towards a new future, where hope may be sown.

Through the arches of time and space,
The chairs stand tall in empty grace,
Their lines and curves, a work of art,
Guiding us to a brand new start.

The hallway stretches long and wide,
A path devoid of travelers' stride.
The walls reflect a hue of blue,
While orange hues the ceiling too.

The train speeds on, a time machine,
A journey through history, yet to be seen.
The leading line, a guiding force,
Through tunnels and tracks, a steady course.

The empty halls stretch on for miles,
The ghosts of travelers, lost in the aisles.
The echoes of footsteps, now long gone,
As we stand here, amidst the silence, all alone.

The station lies in stillness, quiet and bare,
A space that's left for us to share.
The hum of trains has faded away,
Yet in the distance, a glimmer of day.

The leading lines stretch out ahead,
On the shadowed floor, where light has fled.
The station stands silent, in the midst of the storm,
A place of departure, now devoid of form.

Beneath a roof of arching grace
The grand hall stands in stately place
A symphony of light and hue
With golden floor that gleams anew

Orange-red panels curve like clouds above,
A roof so stunning, it inspires love.
Its leading lines draw the eye up high,
Towards the heavens, towards the sky.