I was haunted by memories of my first roller coaster ride aged 8 year and 4 months as I journeyed through the equally terrifying Penhale Military Camp.
The Rails at Penhale
The signs all warn of danger,
As you make your first approach,
Though you can't see what is waiting,
You trundle on into the dark,
Your fate self contemplating.
The unseen drops down mine shafts,
Where greed had dug so deep,
To where the bats and spirits dwell,
And waiting dormant beneath your feet,
There lies a man made hell.
Barbed wire fences keep you cornered,
Constrained to trust a twisting path,
Wrenched metal towers warn of radiation,
Whilst rusted gates of trespass gone,
Send signals of asbestos contamination.
The wind so dominant in its force,
Howling screams of lives gone by,
The empty containers its only victims left,
As it slowly creaks them down to dust,
And from all dying things takes breath.
The waves confined to wait their turn,
In jealous mood reek havoc,
Driving and smashing through the gaps,
Brutally battering the dark haunted rock,
Yearning for their natural barrier to breach and collapse.
This was a bit of an experiment with an uncomfortable and uneasy verse form in order to resemble the content of the poem - Despite the difficulty I have in reading it, I think it works. Its also unfinished.