Through forests and mountains,
Goes the train.
It’s quietness all around,
Except the train’s sound.
To be seen are only birds and monkeys,
For the train is a quicky.

The climate changes,
As through days and nights it ranges,
Yet, they aren’t obstacles,
But experiences to tackle.

Beggars and hawkers,
Are a real torcher;
Beggars are cursers,
While hawkers are botherers.

Thefts and murders,
Hundreds they gather,
For trains are for public,
And there’s where thefts click.

Accidents are common,
From bridges to grounds they summon
Thousands die,
Without hearing their family’s cry.